


A Knot Made of Hair

by VeryWrongEverything



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ageless being and young lover, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Attempt to abandon child, Crowley love Aziraphale, Gabriel is an asshole, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mentions of death in the past, Naga Crowley (Good Omens), Serpent God Crowley, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Young Aziraphale, bad poems written by the author
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:36:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26557492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeryWrongEverything/pseuds/VeryWrongEverything
Summary: Ezra's parent decided to offer their son to the serpent god to avoid he becoming the prey of the soul sucker. The serpent god made a promise to the boy but did not take him away...Will they reunite and what will that bring to the world?
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Gabriel & Uriel (Good Omens)
Comments: 55
Kudos: 114
Collections: Courts GO Re-Reads





	1. The Birth of Ezra

**Author's Note:**

> I'm excited to write this story which has haunted me for quite some time. It's roughly planned out, but not fully written. The chapter count should be roughly between 20 to 30. Tags will be updated when big things happened. 
> 
> Some things I should point out now are:  
> -This story begins from Aziraphale's childhood and the age difference between Aziraphale and Crowley is unchangeable, which probably makes sense given one of them is an ageless godlike creature and another a human. No underage sex act happens.  
> -Aziraphale was not loved by his parents. I'll repeat this in the notes until chapters of his childhood ended.  
> -I have trouble writing Gabriel as a good person, so he'll be a terrible human in this story. 
> 
> Other than that, I think nothing's too triggering. Let me know if there's something need tagging :)

Starless nights like this brought an uneasy feeling to all souls under Heaven. Families tucked themselves in earlier than usual to shield their loved ones from and travellers sought shelter as soon as possible so as to not lose their direction in total darkness. The sky was pitch dark and liquid-like. Instead of the still colour of a bottomless pit, it resembled the colour of spilt ink. There’s a quality of swaying tides.

On the night of Ezra’s birth, the sky was pitch dark. Not a star visible. The starless night brought an ominous feeling to every person who happened to look into the pool of blackness. In the middle of the darkness, a meteor lit up, in the colour of vicious flames and shot itself to the roof of Ezra’s house and burst into a wall of light, swallowing the house in blue and red flames. 

The entire neighbourhood scrambled, fishing for basins and barrels to put down the fire. People carried containers full of water to the house. However, when they arrived at the house, however, there was no fire. 

Soft light spilt out from the house which they ran towards. Villagers watched the weak candle lights sway in the darkness, trying to figure out the situation. Suddenly a bright ray of light burst out from the gaps of the wooden walls of the house, accompanied by a loud cry of an infant. It was the birth of Aaron and Rachel’s firstborn son. Women ran into the house to congratulate Rachel while men stayed outside, to be decent and leave the exhausted women some privacy.

The infant did not make another cry, which was abnormal, but he breathed peacefully in the shaky arms of his mother. The child lit up the meagre residence of his parents with his own light, violent and blindingly bright at first, but soon became calming and gentle after his first cry for air. It was surreal to look at a child quieting down into a peaceful nap so soon after leaving his mother. 

It was a baby boy with light blonde hair. His thin hair still damp and darkened on his head and his pale body covered in bloody fluid. Women beside the mother took away the child to clean him up, wiping away the fluid on his skin and wrapping the boy inside the softest fabric the couple could afford. The infant was soon put back into the mother’s arm, now only his face glowed a gentle light, radiating from his mother’s chest. The mother smiled at her child with an exhausted but gentle smile, her eyes were half-closed. The father smiled at them both with a proud grin.

“Ezra,” the father whispered. “My son, Ezra.”

People cheered for the birth of Ezra and congratulated the couple before they left. But was gripped by fear when the mysterious woman showed up out of nowhere, in a dark cloak covering her face. Her wavy hair spilt out from the hood of her cloak and swayed as she spoke in the musical voice of her. 

“Here comes the end. Here comes the chosen child,” she announced and hummed a tune in the forgotten language before slipping into darkness again. People argued about what her words meant, but they knew. And the Mother knew. She let go of her child fearfully and looked up at her husband with helpless eyes. 

“What do we do, Aaron?” The exhausted woman sobbed. She was too tired to think and she did not know what to do. The man beside her was tense. He stared at his child with piercing blue eyes and did not even move a finger to soothe the distress of him. The child had not cried after his first sob for air but was squirming in distress in the entire room. 

“We will have another child, Rachel,” Aaron decided. “This is a lost cause, but we can have another. We are still young, Rachel.” His voice was slightly wavering but otherwise cold as ice. His wife lowered her eyelids to stop sorrow spilling out of her eyes. The soft hazel coloured eyes wobbled in the candle lights like a jar of honey. 

“We’ll lose him,” she sobbed. 

“Yes.”

“We’ll lose our baby,” Rachel was trembling but knew there’s nothing to be done.” 

“It’s not our baby,” he corrected her. “It’s the prey of the soul sucker.”

She said nothing in reply.  _ Why did it happen to them? _ She thought to herself.  _ What have they done wrong?  _ There was no answer and she did not know what to feel about it. 

They spent the next few years keeping the child alive while trying for another. Killing the beautiful infant would be doing him a favour, sparing him from the violent death under the hand of a vicious immortal being. But that’s not an option. Killing the prey of the deity have brought nothing but pain and death to those who’ve allegedly done it. 

The boy was beautiful. There’s no way to deny that. His hair pale gold, his eyes a sample of the purest sky, and his cheek the colour of blossoming flowers. The beauty of their son made them more worried. They’ve heard about the deity. A ruthless female warrior, barely human-like with a scale-covered torso, surviving on the blood of innocent boys. 

The more they thought about it, the more upset they got. And it became overwhelming to look at a vibrant boy, knowing that he’ll end up a bloodless corpse in the den of a violent warrior god. 

So, they turned away. They refused to care for their child, thinking that it might make the inevitable separation easier. The sense of loss faded after a while and vanished almost completely when they knew there’s a new child on his or her way. 

Things returned to better days all over again, to the time when they hadn’t given birth to Ezra and known he’s the chosen child. Rachel and Aaron cared for the new child with all their heart, showering the foetus with loving praises and nurturing it with the most nutritious food they could afford. 

When they knew the next child was coming and Rachel could barely move with the added weight, they prepared a nice meal for their firstborn. Grains and flesh. The hungry boy tucked in with a satisfied smile while his parents looked at him in sorrowful eyes. This will be the last meal they provided him. 

This is the last night of their time together. 


	2. The Summoning of a Serpent God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They met each other! Not in the best circumstances, but it's a first meeting chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm back!
> 
> Everything started in my head with the meeting, so let's hope I did justice to that. Fingers crossed.

As Ezra rested in bed with a full belly for the first time in a while, Aaron laid out the tools he needed to summon the serpent god. Rachel’s belly has become too large for her to do much more than staying in a lying position in a nearby bed and reciting instructions which they had collected from witches and travelling monks for summoning the serpent.

The time was running out as Ezra grew. They could live with the knowledge that their son could have a life somewhere away from them, but they couldn’t bear the thought that Ezra would one day face a brutal death if they kept him by their side out of selfish parental love. This was the only way they knew. It’s the only chance their Ezra got.

In the dim candle lights, the couple endeavoured to set up a matrix for the serpent god to appear into. The god was known for granting people’s wishes with a fair exchange. He has always kept his words. Families sometimes offered him some piglets for better crops in the coming year or some beautifully woven fabrics for the promise of a child.

Offerings like the one they’re planning to make were rare, but not unheard of. A human. Serpent god had accepted humans from time to time if the wishes were significant. Rumour had it that the deity took the offered humans back to his temple as servants or priests if they’re spiritually gifted. Either way, it’s a much better option than a violent end.

The serpent god was the counterpart of the soul sucker and a being of his words. There was no better option to keep their Ezra alive. When a deal was made, the deal would come true according to the agreed-upon terms. However, the god was not a nice being. He’s not going around granting wishes or doing charities. And, Aaron and Rachel didn’t technically need anything back from the offering. They were poor, but they weren’t heartless beings who would give up their child for their well-being.

The wish had to be significant enough to be worth a human life. They waited for their next child to come. They would ask for a child’s prosperity with another.

On the layer of horse blood-stained sand, Aaron’s calloused fingers traced out entwined sigils and characters of an old language. Finally, he walked back to his wife and they leaned against each other in the silence of the fateful night and recited the spell of summoning a god. The air tasted different, more earthy than usual, and smoke rose from the centre of the matrix.

There he was, the serpent god in his human shape. Waist-length locks dancing behind his shoulders by the flows of air spiralling around the deity. Its movements like flames but its colour like blood in the dim light of an autumn night. The being’s corporation was wrapped in a luxurious black silk gown with golden threads woven in on the hem, a snakeskin battle vest cladded his torso, and his lean legs long and elegant, calf wrapped in the strappy sandals.

By the time Aaron and Rachel dared to open their eyes, the man-shaped being stood proudly in the middle of the room.

“Mortals,” he spoke. “Why have you summoned me?”

Rachel and Aaron were stunned speechless.

“Why have you summoned me?” He spoke again, his angular jaw clenched in impatience. “I will not ask a third time.”

“We wanted to make a deal,” Aaron finally squeezed out his words. The presence of a deity pressured the human and made him pause to pant. “We want to offer you our firstborn for the well being of our coming child.”

“You want to make a human sacrifice?” The god asked, a brow raising in question. “That’s a dangerous thought to have.”

“Yes,” Rachel confirmed, her voice trembling.

“Why? Be honest,” he demanded.

“We need you to take the boy away,” Rachel sobbed, unable to not be honest. “He’s the chosen child,” Rachel’s every muscle was shaking violently. She sounded lost and hurt. Aaron stood closer to round his arm around her, supporting his wife as she spoke their nightmare for the past six years. “He’s the chosen child.”

“I don’t see how this is related to our deal,” the serpent god stated coldly, growing impatient and annoyed by the dishonesty.

“We are not going to give our child away to that soul sucker and you are the only one chance we’ve got. You’re our boy’s only hope,” Aaron yelled, his face contorted in rage when he saw the indifference in the deity’s face. “Do you have no mercy? Are you as cruel as the monster?”

“I don’t make deals with dishonest people,” he replied simply yet firmly and Aaron knew they’d done the wrong thing. They had messed up Ezra’s only possibility of having a life. “And, be warned, whether a deity is cruel or not is not a judgement for mortals like you to make.”

“Please, I’ll give you anything, I would give you my life if that’s what it takes,” Rachel sobbed, lowering herself to the ground to beg. However much she tried to stay distant from her firstborn, the maternal love was primal and too powerful to ignore. She couldn’t let go of the chance to save her boy when they’ve gone so far. When the serpent god’s still here.

“He couldn’t have a life as the chosen child. He’d have five? six years more? I cannot let Ezra die in the hand of that monster.” She begged with broken sobs at the feet of the serpent god with her husband wordlessly supporting her fragile pregnant body.

In the intense silence, a flash of surprise and shock passed on the serpent god’s face. He waved his bony hands and the couple was back onto the soft surface where Rachel had rested.

“The child is mine,” The god lowered his voice to almost a growl and announced. Every live or lifeless object in that room trembled in fear. The couple sucked in a breath in shock, unsure of what changed the deity’s mind. “He will stay here until I come to claim him and no one is to lay a finger on him, including you. You will provide him and keep him in good shape, not this skinny body he’s got now. You will put his happiness over any other soul you came across. He is mine from this moment to the moment he drew his last breath.”

The couple bowed their heads and praised him as their saviour. They heard a whoosh of air and the god was gone, leaving his last order in the air.

“He will not bear the name of mortals who wanted him gone. He is mine and will bear the name of an angel. Aziraphale will be his name.”

Ezra had heard the conversation between his parents and the strange man, dressing in way too luxurious fabrics to be from anywhere nearby. He heard his parent’s intention to give him away and he heard the rejection from the man. He heard his pregnant mother begging the stranger to take him away because he’s the chosen child.

It was difficult to grapple with the fact that he was unwanted because he’s chosen. How could he be wanted by some but treated as if he didn’t exist by others? How could his parents look at a swollen stomach with a loving gaze, but turned to him with hollow eyes?

The small and fragile heart of the young boy couldn’t stand this. He had been so alone. He’d been jealous of other children going home to hot family meals and comfy beds. He had somehow grasped that he wouldn’t have that, not ever, but he’d rather leave the unloving home behind than to be given away like an unwanted item.

He ran out, as quickly and as quietly a six-year-old boy could. He saw the red-haired stranger straighten his back for a moment when he pushed open the window in his room and worried that he’d be ratted out. The man didn’t say a thing, so Ezra thanked some gods briefly for the luck and started his escape.

The ground was cold and rough against his bare feet at first. It was nice to finally feel something, given how numb seeing his parents begging to give him away had left him feeling. Little Ezra had to haul the too-long hem of his sleeping gown. It’s technically a tunic of his father but now his makeshift sleeping gown. The fabric was too rough for his young flesh and left red patches on his pale skin. He wondered absentmindedly how the luxurious silk on the stranger would feel against his skin.

He moved his short legs as fast as he could without tripping over and grimaced as he felt the squishes of wet mud between his toes. There’s no going back after this. He had to get away. Being brought back home would do him no good. He was not wanted there. He was not wanted anywhere.

Unfortunately, however determined little Ezra might be, there was only so much strength in a six-year-old child. He had to stop to catch breath and cough out the cold air irritating his lungs. He was soon too tired to continue and ended up squeezing his small body into the tree hole he deemed habitable and rested.

The night sky looked ominous and owls hoots sounded sinister. Ezra’s body shook a little from the chilling evening air and his nerves but there’s not much he could do and he was too tired to be kept awake from that. So he dozed off into a dreamless sleep.

The serpent god knew about the person moving in the dark while he spoke with the couple. Well, he’s the child this couple didn’t want, but the god knew who the person truly was. His first and only lover. The old heart of the god twisted in his hollow chest. The heart that had refused to beat began to start the rhythm once again.

He warned himself to keep calm. Drawing attention to the true identity of the person would only bring him harm. He’d keep the boy safe for as long as he lived. He’d ask for nothing in return. He’d go after him, not to keep him by his side, but to protect him. If necessary, the serpent god would shield the boy from all earthly harm, whatever the price was. The serpent god had broken his own rule and accepted the dishonest deal. He agreed to take the boy but not at the moment. He wanted the child to have a life for as long as possible.

The chosen child was always meant for him. He would finally hold him in his arms again. After decades of loneliness. Sure, he would have to give him back to the couple, for the good of the boy. But he’d allow himself a few minutes of indulgence, perhaps he’d watch over the boy until he fell back asleep in warm blankets. Perhaps he’d watch over his sleep for a few nights just to make sure the couple kept their words.

He launched himself out to the woods. He’d prisoned himself in the damp and dark forest, away from human kingdoms, and knew nothing better than the trails over the ground and twisted branches blocking the sky. Well, now that the boy brought back his memories, he probably knew the beautiful body of his lover better. Dimples on his ample thighs, swells of his soft belly, swirls of love and affection in his ocean coloured eyes. The serpent god brought the beautiful young man to the shore once, for no other reason than to convince his lover that his eyes were as vast and magnificent as the ocean.

In the darkness of the night and the shades of the woods, eyesight could only get him so far. The serpent god allowed himself to recall the scent of his lover, the soft, flowery fragrance of the youthful body and track it. In different lifetimes, his love inhabited different bodies. The boy here was the closest to the one he first fell in love with. Pale flesh with silvery blonde hair. Much thinner, but that’s alright. He’d made sure the couple would now feed the boy properly. Throughout each lifetime, the scent never changed. Incarnation after incarnation, the body carried the scent he loved so much and this boy was no exception.

When he finally located the child, he was already dozing off in a damp tree hole, his worn sleeping gown smudged with mud and his fluffy curls tousled, with leaves and twigs stuck inside. His chubby hands tightened into fists in front of his chest. The boy was as beautiful as he remembered. The god felt like he could cry. He lowered himself to study the slight frown on the boy’s face. He still had the daintily upturned nose, pink cheeks and plump lips. The god wanted to press kisses on every single spot.

Ezra seemed to notice the presence of another being and opened his eyes. The god forced himself to stay still and had to hold his breath when he saw the fluttering of Ezra’s lashes. Under the moonlight, the boy’s lashes looked silver and his blue eyes the purest gem the god had ever seen.

Seeing the man crouching in front of him, the child drew in a breath in shock but didn’t dare to move. He stared at the stranger with widened eyes, filled with fear, and the serpent god almost couldn’t stand that. The familiar eyes without the familiar loving gaze.

“Shh… I’ll take you back and your parents will take care of you,” he cooed. “They’d been cruel to you, but not anymore.” The boy looked afraid and unsure but stayed still when the god reached out to collect him in his arms. _He didn’t dare to move out of fear for you_ , the serpent god reminded himself, willing his stomach to stop doing funny things. His heart clenched at the knowledge that he couldn’t make his lover feel safe now. He hated the powerlessness.

“They wouldn’t dare to treat you like they did,” he ground his teeth together in anger at first and he forced his jaw to unclench and speak softer. “You’ll be safe there and when you grow up, you can go anywhere you like.”

“You’re not taking me away?” The boy whispered in a tiny voice, soft and wobbly. The serpent god couldn’t tell his emotions behind the words. This wasn’t right. A child like this should be carefree and as transparent as a crystal. _Would it be better if he left that loveless place? Would the boy let him shower him with love?_

“Do you want to leave?” _Wherever you want_ , he screamed internally but didn’t dare to speak out.

“I don’t know,” the boy whispered. Ezra felt almost too small, almost invisible. The serpent god felt his chest clenched to see the boy shrunk smaller and grew more uncertain about himself.

“That’s alright. You know what?” The god tucked Ezra’s skull under his chin, breaking the eye contact he had been too drawn into. “I’ll leave you a choice, alright?”

The boy nodded his head, the delicate soft curls tickling the god’s jawline.

“Good, I need a strand of your hair for this, but that’s all. I’ll never hurt you, promise,” the serpent god drew out a dagger from his gown and cut off a strand each of his and Ezra’s hair. The boy squeezed his eyes tight and huffed out short breaths nervously when he felt the blade come close.

“I’ll never hurt you,” he promised again, softly, in his honeyed, velvety voice. With his elegant fingers, the god tied the loose white curls and his fiery locks into a knot and put it back in the boy’s already waiting hand.

“Smart boy,” he praised and the child flashed him a shy smile.

“Now, this is a bond between us that can never be broken by anyone else,” he announced softly as Ezra examined the mixture of red and white hair with his curious blue eyes. _The knot looked almost like a fire meeting ice_ , the god mused. Upon the words, the boy’s gaze snapped up from his palm to stare at him in frightened big eyes.

“You can break the bond if you want to,” _and you would want to, someday_ , he continued silently. “But, only you and I can break this bond. When you grow up and want to have a life on your own, just untie the knot and burn my hair into ashes.”

“And if I want to come to you?”

 _You won’t. Oh, little bastard angel, giving me a shred of false hope. How did an innocent little angel like you know how to crush my shattered heart already_. Instead of saying the melancholy thought out loud, he simply told the boy, “you will know.” He could never say no to those eyes, especially not when they twinkled so innocently in the silvery moonlight.

The boy folded his fingers over his palm, caressing the tie of both their hair and the serpent god said nothing.

“Now, I will bring you back to your family and you will have a nice night of sleep. Everything will be better.” He hauled the boy up and cooed him to sleep. Ezra slowly dozed off but his hand holding the knot of hair never let go of it and he snored huffs of warm air into the heart of the ageless being that just remembered how to beat again.

The serpent god forbade himself from staring at the boy’s sleeping face. Instead, he extended his wings, as dark and wide as the night sky, and flew them both back into the couple. The moon looked brighter than usual and the stars twinkled like the small flickers of hope in Ezra’s eyes. He didn’t know what to think of that.

When he landed himself in front of the house where Aaron and Rachel stayed, he was furious. The couple were asleep. The god had no idea whether they knew Ezra’s missing or not. Either they didn’t bother to check on their child before they went to bed or they checked and didn’t care. Both were wrong. And the god wouldn’t stand for it.

He summoned his inhuman strength to growl at the sleeping couple. The voice scared the couple enough to crumble down to the ground and laid their head low. They didn’t dare speak. Aaron bowed so low his forehead almost touching the ground and one of his palms protectively paid on Rachel’s stomach.

“What have you done to Ezra?” Aaron gathered his courage to question and was answered by a snarl.

“How dare you close your eyes even for one second when your son was lost and afraid?” In pure rage, the serpent god sneered. He looked almost murderous, despite a peaceful child cradled in his arms.

“This child is under my protection until he decides he’s not. You will keep him safe, healthy and happy just as I bade you to. No harm, from you or outsiders, will come to him. Or you’ll have me to answer to. Am I clear?”

The couple frantically nodded, Aaron knocking his head on the ground. The serpent god waved his hand dismissively and secretly cast a protection spell on the unborn child. He didn’t mean to cause harm to the foetus and a sibling can be good to his boy. _Having company is good_. _Having someone growing up with Aziraphale is good,_ he decided and carried Ezra into his tiny bedroom.

He frowned immediately at the insufficient bedding and uncomfortable looking pillow. He’d not allow his love to live in this condition. The god summoned the plushest pillows and fluffy blankets from his bed chamber and tucked the boy in carefully, relishing the small huff when he left his arms. _I would hold you forever if you let me_ , he pleaded in his heart while the boy, now named Aziraphale, submerged in beddings, snored softly.

The serpent god allowed himself to feel the warmth of the boy’s pink cheeks with the back of his fingers. He carefully retrieved the knot he made from the boy’s fist and materialised a silver necklace to keep the knot on his neck, close to the boy’s heart.

“Aziraphale, my little angel,” he whispered the loving words through layers of hazy sleepiness in the boy’s mind and left as the hint of daylight began to bleed into the dark sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and let me know what you think! Every comment makes my day better <3


	3. Aziraphale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Aziraphale tries out his new identity and learns about what it might mean...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just had a four-day holiday and is mentally struggling to go back to uni...(I'm doing a fifth year for college and things felt more difficult than they should be this year. The pandemic made everything worse)
> 
> I really want to post this before I lost my mind in the weekdays, so here it is :)
> 
> Hope you are alright out there and please enjoy this update <3

Used to waking up to chilling morning air, Ezra was surprised by the thick blankets and plush pillows around him. The air around him was cold, predictably so in a crisp autumn morning. The smell of food in the air pulled a rumble out of his stomach. It wasn’t often that he woke up to the smell of food. More often than not he was left with a chunk of stale bread, which he would store carefully in his pocket and run off.

He peeked into his parents’ bedroom as he followed the smell into the dining area and found his mother laying on her side and rubbing her tummy with a loving gaze. The way she looked at her unborn child made his chest tight for a second. _Had his parents looked forward to his birth as well?_ He pushed the ridiculous thought away. Ezra stood there until she looked up to him until the tenderness was replaced by surprise and faded into distant politeness.

“There’s breakfast on the table,” she looked at him with an empty smile. He wanted to run towards his mother but didn’t dare. The urge to be closed to his parents sometimes churned in his stomach, but that’s not what they had. He stared instead. He looked at the soft hazel coloured eyes that reminded him of gold. _Gold._ Something shimmery and bright flashed at the back of his mind. Then he heard his mother speak.

“Your name is Aziraphale from now on. It’s the serpent god’s condition for offering protection,” Rachel announced quietly and little Ezra looked confused. _Aziraphale_ , the name sounded familiar. He’d heard it somewhere, but he couldn’t remember where and when. The name bounced in the back of his head, smooth as velvet and sweet and syrup. Slowly, the words registered and he froze. _That man was the serpent god?_

“Go eat something, please, Aziraphale,” Rachel ended her short speech most of which her son missed. Preoccupied with how his new name sounded awkward on his mother tongue.

It was a bowl of warm stew on the table and an apple, bright red, besides it. As he chewed, events from the previous night rushed to the front of his mind like a flood. He remembered the golden gaze tracing every inch of his face with great intensity. The arms that moulded him into a peacefully asleep state. And the red hair that tied around his own blonde fluff. _The knot_. He remembered and instinctively tightened his fist but found nothing.

Ezra, no, _Aziraphale_ now, he reminded himself. Aziraphale instinctively reached into the collar of his gown and let out a relieved breath when he touched the knot, secured, next to his heart. It felt silky and cool to the touch and he couldn’t put it away.

 _Aziraphale,_ he thought to himself, repeating the name silently. He had not yet tried it on his own tongue, and it felt like it'd be a mouthful, but he liked how it sounded in the faint memory of the stranger uttering his name, and even when pronounced with his mother's voice, despite the slight awkwardness.

The knot on his neck swayed as he moved and it tickled. It was a nice tickle and made the boy felt less alone. He knew it’s silly to have hope of truly belonging somewhere. He was unlovable and he knew that as a fact. But it felt nice to have a promise to look forward to. Aziraphale cleaned the bowl he used and tucked the apple under his pillow before wrapping himself in a spare cloak and ran off.

People on the streets seemed more distant than usual and the boy felt less connected to them than he did. Aziraphale never had many friends but the old couple, Tracy and Shadwell, always left a spot for him. They were a weird couple. A scruffy old man and a too clever wife. Shadwell was beyond happy to have someone to talk to and Tracy always looked at him with concerns in her eyes like she did now as she walked back from the woods.

Without nothing better to do, Aziraphale had crouched beside the Shadwell and listen to the stories of his travels, again. Shadwell was a well-travelled man. Perhaps one of the bonuses of escaping from the army. He went through plenty of places just to come home.

Aziraphale had heard him recall real-life hell during wartime and cherished the peaceful life he had now. Violent seemed so far away from the peaceful little village, which was good, but so was all the alluring adventures, which made things boring. A small part of little Aziraphale hoped that he would one day be able to leave this small place and see the vibrant world that was out there.

Shadwell was in his thick coat, the colour between cedarwood and dirt. He left a stub out of the wind for Aziraphale to sit on while he hummed tunes in his worn rocking chair.

“Ezra!” He exclaimed when Aziraphale hurried over. “My lad! Sit down and have a nice chat, eh?”

“Aziraphale,” the boy answered primly and crouched down on his reserved seat.

“Wah?” The old man frowned.

“My name’s Aziraphale now,” he responded as-a-matter-of-fact-ly.

“Why?” Shadwell frowned deeper.

“Mom told me this morning. I change my name so the serpent god will keep me safe.”

“Ah, clever couple,” Shadwell sighed, sinking back into his rocking chair. “Leaving the fight to the deities, huh.”

“What fight?” Aziraphale didn’t understand the scheme behind the deal. “Is this about being the chosen child?”

“Ye know what te chosen child’s all about?” Aziraphale shook his head. “Chosen children were destined to be taken by the soul sucker. She’s a monster. A woman shape being but with a long black tail,” Shadwell squirmed his hands in a wavy fashion and gestured vaguely along the length of his legs.

“Witchcraft,” the old man huffed. “She seduces young men and sucked the life out of them. She also marked some young boys like you for her to consume someday. When you grow older, when you learn how to read, when you think about...”

“Well, that’s quite enough,” Shadwell was muffled by his wife, who made a little dance with her flower-stained fingernails to distract Aziraphale from the increasingly dark conversation.

“The boy doesn’t need to hear these vulgar things,” she reprimanded her husband but in a blink of the eye, she turned to Aziraphale with a loving smile. “Ezra my dear, I picked some extra pears for you. Come!”

“Oof! I like pears,” the boy wiggled excitedly before standing up and following Tracy into the house. Her red hair bounced and colourful gown swayed as she walked cheerfully into the kitchen.

Aziraphale sat himself down on a stool nearby, watching Tracy works. She sliced up the pear and laid the pieces on a plate in front of the boy.

“Madame, my name is changed to Aziraphale,” the boy announced as he popped a slice into his mouth. The more he used his name, the more he liked the way it sounded. It was musical and elegant on the tongue.

“Silly boy, what do you mean by changing your name?” Tracy asked affectionately, believing that this was some sort of joke. “You should be proud of the name your parents gave you. Ezra is a lovely name for a lovely boy like you, isn’t it?”

“The serpent god gave me this name,” Aziraphale shooked his head slightly and repeated what he knew so far. “He keeps me safe and I use the name he gives. It’s the deal.”

“You made a deal and the god named you?” Tracy squealed. “That’s a powerful bond, boy oh boy. Did he give you some sort of token?”

“My parents made the deal,” nodding, Azirphale reached into his collar and pulled out the knot he kept on his neck. Tracy paled. An uncomfortable silence filled the room in the moments that followed. Aziraphale shifted awkwardly in the seat while the woman massaged her temple with a knotted frown.

“My dear, you said you are now called Aziraphale,” Tracy asked after speechless moments and pushed the plate towards the boy. Aziraphale nodded obediently, keeping his mouth closed to chew the pear. “And that’s the serpent god’s order?” He nodded again. “And the serpent god is going to protect you from the soul sucker?” Nodding.

“Oh boy, you parents did you no good,” she whispered, looking at Aziraphale with a sorrowful gaze.

“Some say the soul sucker is the feral form of the serpent god, ye know?” Shadwell yelled from outside. “When the god lost the temper, he snarls and grows out a tail and two breasts. 'n no nipples! That's how you know things ah wrong!”

“Hush,” Tracy yelled back and bowed her head down to comfort the terrified boy. “It’s alright, boy. Don’t listen to that old fool. You’re safe. The serpent god’s a being of his words. If he promised Aaron and Rachel your safety, then you’ll be alright. Now, eat up and we can talk about this in the future.”

Aziraphale went home that night and the apple he hid was replaced by a pear. Day after day, for the next few months, little Aziraphale would find a ripen pear by his crowded bed. Sometimes the pears were accompanied by berries or flowers, arranged beautifully by his bed.

Even well over the harvest season and there was barely anything in the fields, Aziraphale still received juicy fruits every day. It was more than the little boy needed. He began leaving the fruits and pillows coming from nowhere by Rachel’s bed, wanted his mother who just went through giving birth to have enough to eat. It didn’t take long for Aziraphale to realise that when he brought something nice to his parents, he received less the next day. He tested it a few times. Leaving something for his parents, receiving less; keeping the items all to himself, an extra bundle of vibrant flowers.

He gradually learnt the alphabets under the insistence of Tracy, but there were not many materials to read around him. He picked up branches and practice writing them down on the sandy ground in Tracy and Shadwell's yard. Shadwell would huff and mutter things about Aziraphale not having the chance to use them anyways when he practised and Tracy would shush her husband and encourage the boy.

After he recognised a fair amount of letters, Aziraphale even started to learn about spells, which Tracy had a few scrolls of. They spent afternoons after afternoons tracing sigils on the ground and memorising the meaning of that sigils. The boy improved quickly, thank to the mysteriously appearing pieces of charcoal and paper by his bed.

For some time, after the initial shock of meeting the serpent god had worn off, Aziraphale almost felt happy with his life. Until the day where Tracy decided it was time to prepare him for his fate.

One morning after Aziraphale's ninth Spring on earth, when the sun was just enough to warm whoever stand under it to his or her core, Tracy sent her husband to run some errands and asked Aziraphale to come earlier than usual.

She neatly arranged some fruits on a plate for the boy to have, first thing after he arrived.

"Now, Aziraphale," she announced with a serious frown. "What I am going to tell you today is not pleasant but necessary. If it's up to me, I would never put you through the ugliness, but I'm not in charge here, and I want you to be as prepared as possible, alright?"

The boy nodded, mouth stuffed with juicy slices of pear.

"Do you know what does it mean to be bonded to the serpent god?" She sat across him, staring down at him intensely.

"Does it mean he'll come and take me away?"He swallowed the mouthful hurriedly and replied innocently. His voice was still soft and smooth. His mind was pure and untainted.

"Yes, but there's more," Tracy nodded. "Bonded to a deity means that you are bonded to him as his consort. His spouse," she added when it was clear that the child had no grasp of the concept.

"His husband," she settled with the bluntest term possible and the boy sucked in a lungful of air in surprise. "Now you see why it's important for us to have the talk."

"There are certain expectations and rituals to be fulfilled when it comes to marriages, and I think it's better for you to understand it as early as possible. I haven't met anyone who's bonded to a god, but I've tried to collect as much information in the past few months as possible," Tracy winced at the memory of the information she collected. All the unpleasant tales of humans being forced into a bond with deities and being abandoned afterwards when they aged.

"Number one, there's supposed to be a ceremony to really secure the bond. I know there's a knot, but there must be an exchange of vows to officialise everything. Just follow the lead of whoever is in charge of the process when it happened and you should be fine. Number two, you do whatever the deity said. If you're bonded to a human, the dynamics might be different, but we're talking about the serpent god here. You have no choice but to obey." As she spoke, the young kid nodded concentratedly.

"Number three. I really hope things won't come to this too soon, but it's bound to happen someday. So here we are. Number three, you are expected to offer yourself to him," Aziraphale's jaw dropped. He had a vague idea of what that meant but was hoping that that's not what Tracy was saying. The vulgar terms and gestured the kids had subjected him to surfaced in his mind and he barely registered what Tracy said after that.

"I know it's way too early for you to know about these things, but I don't want you to face them unprepared. We'll clarify any question as you have them and as you grow older. Let's just hope the serpent god doesn't come for you in the next few years," Tracy sighed, rubbing Aziraphale's shoulder soothingly. "I'm sorry, Aziraphale. Really, I am sorry that you have to face this when you are still so young."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think! Your lovely comments always keep my spirit up <3


	4. Will you come to me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The serpent god watched over his boy from afar, for now...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm so glad to be back! 
> 
> Just finished an important exam today and now have some more time on my hand to write the later chapters :)
> 
> Hope you like this one as always, and have a good day!

Why the lady knew all those sigils and letters of dying languages, the serpent god had no idea. He had an even fainter clue about why his boy was being taught all these nonsense. His angel could've learnt it from him. After all, there's no better tutor of ancient languages than a creature that had literally been around since they were still in use. He'd be learning from the best, if the serpent god may say so. Pangs of jealously and sadness of being apart with the boy clenched at his heart. Strong emotions had become foreign to him as he survived on more days without the boy beside him. _It's good the feel the pain_ , the god decided. It's much better than the years he spent in loneliness and regrets when he had no idea where his love was.

Still, it was more difficult as well. Knowing that his love was alive but away from him. The serpent god had to constantly remind himself that it was a rational decision to leave Aziraphale in a human village and not to undo it just because his blackened heart craved to hold his love again. _He deserved a normal life_. Well, _a life_ , the boy's beauty stood out too much for him to fit in, but at least, his parents now kept a polite distance for fear of the god's wrath.

He would make up for what wasn't enough. When the boy decided to come to him wanting to have more, the serpent god would gladly shower Aziraphale with the most comfortable and beautiful things in the world. The god made it a personal mission to ensure the happiness of Aziraphale's childhood, bring him small gifts and treats he thought the boy would enjoy. It soon became clear that life in the village was boring. All the boy did every day was going back and forth between his own home and the couples. So the god brought him toys and scrolls of drawings as well.

He also enjoyed the times Aziraphale snuck into his parents' room to check on his brother. The younger child had darker hair, as curly as a baby's hair could be. Aziraphale would touch his cheeks gently, saying the most loving words an older brother could say to his sibling and smiled the most beautiful smile. The serpent god felt bad about missing out this stage of his boy, they met too late, but he would happily settle with watching this. Staring at his angelic love doing his angelic stuff with a moonstruck grin in the safety of his hiding spot.

Apart from the beauty of Aziraphale, everything was so mundane. What the serpent god wanted for the boy was all the pretty things ever existed. He wanted to wrap the pale skin in fine silk, moisturise those plump lips with sweet wine, _well, maybe not yet, but the point stood_. Instead, all he could do without getting the boy in trouble was to leave small gifts by his bed. After helping the lady with collecting fruit and practised tracing letters and sigils on the ground, he would come home to a pile of delicacies for him to enjoy.

It was a bit like courtship, if the serpent god indulged himself with the memories of the past, when everything still had meanings. He remembered taking the most decadent offerings from his worshipers back for his love, feeding the young man with honey-soaked pastries and licked the sheen of sweetness from those lips. The beautiful human would make a flower crown for him to wear when he returned. Soft words insisting that he's kind and nice and should wear the prettiest things made the powerful deity feel soft and fuzzy. Of course, the serpent god had developed a habit to whip all the plants in shape so that his love could always collect more than enough succulent petals whenever he liked. He still shouted at them regularly, holding onto the false hope that his love would one day return. He remembered spreading the pale flesh on the pillowy grass, vibrant petals scattered around him, and worshipping every inch of the softness.

 _Gifts and treats,_ _that's what you should provide the boy, not your creepy, hungry, unsatisfied desires. T_ he serpent god scolded himself whenever his treacherous mind failed to steer clear of the intimacy he should not crave from an innocent child. What they had was in the past, and what he should and could do now was to bring as much joy to the boy as possible without disturbing his life too much. _He can and will do this_ , the serpent god swore to himself.

It wasn't easy.

When the boy decided to share the gifts with his parents and infant brother, the god nearly materialised himself in rage. The boy was so kind, _too kind_ , and _what did others put him through_? The god decided to teach him how to treat himself well instead. He left extra gifts when the boy gave nothing away and omit one or two pieces when he did. Nothing the boy loved too much, though. Never pears. He'd never do that to his boy.

He made sure there's more than enough for the family and made sure Aziraphale had a little more than he needed. He looked over Aziraphale's baby brother as well, just so his boy wouldn't be upset. The younger boy, whom Aaron and Rachel named Newton, had hair almost as fluffy as Aziraphale but much darker in colour. His eyes also a shade of blue but not as stunning and complex as his angel's. That's what the serpent god thought, anyways.

He thought all was working out for the boy's good and had always kept his distance when his boy was around other kids, wanting Aziraphale to have a normal childhood. Children were more sensitive with supernatural beings and the last thing he wanted was to raise suspicion and bring Aziraphale the attention he didn't need. So he kept his distance. And also because he thought _what evil could kids do?_ Apparently, he was mistaken and the children in the village were mean to his boy and the stand-back-and-let-Aziraphale-have-a-life-plan came to a halt.

* * *

Travellers were not often seen in Aziraphale’s village, ballads were rarer treats. When there were visitors, there was fun to have. Villagers provide travellers food in exchange of recent events in the neighbouring areas, while the kids cleaned the horses, scrub the dust off some boots, or guide the visitors around to trade a few adventurous tales.

In the spring when Aziraphale was ten-year-old a ballad came, and it was a beautiful spring. All flowers bloomed and families still had plenty to spare from the previous harvest. The ballad was a talented one. He had a beautiful voice and the most vivid stories to tell. Aziraphale squeezed himself in the corner to listen to the ballad’s song like he always did when showing up in crowds, trying to be as small and invisible as possible. It bugged him a little to realise that the corner wasn’t as accommodating to him as he grew older and his body larger. He'd have to find a larger but equally invisible space to sit in these occasions soon.

His unearthly white curls made him stood out among children and his reputation as the chosen child hardly helped. Villagers apparently thought he was some kind of plaything or sex slave for the deities and humiliated him for that. Parents kept their kids from interacting with the young boy and children called him names and pushed him around when he got trapped in a group of larger children. Some children in the village chased him away when Aziraphale showed up in the playground and some played prank on him.

Nothing major. Aziraphale figured he should thank the serpent god for that. No child dared to cross the serpent god or the soul sucker and damage their prey. He did, however, went home with scratches and bruises and always found some rubs and clean rags by his bed the next morning. Aziraphale still received gifts every now and then. He never told anyone about the mysteriously appeared items by his bed, but he knew, _or at least, he had hoped_ , they were left there by the serpent god.

Aziraphale had no idea why the god never showed up in front of him, but there must be some explanation that his human mind couldn't think of. Sometimes when he was lonely, Aziraphale sat in his bed, which was regularly topped with fragrant plush pillows, and prayed to the god. He would hum the hymns he learnt, hoping that it's the right hymns for the deity.

The prayers were never answered directly, but he knew the god was listening in. He would sometimes leave drawings or writings by his window before he slept and they'd be gone when he woke, replaced by a blooming flower or some delicate treats. The boy tried to store every gift that's inedible and nibbled on the edible ones as slowly as he possibly could. The knowledge that he was taken care of warmed the inside of the boy.

The ballad spent late mornings in the middle of the village, listening to villagers' chattering. Families took turn bringing him meals and after lunch, it was the time for him to sing the adventurous tales. Children formed a circle around him, listening intensely to the musical words slipping out from the ballad's lip.

It was a tale of the creation of the soul sucker and the serpent god.

_They were created as one, a beautiful man with a serpent bottom, pale skin and lean muscle ending in dark but shiny scales. The powerful tail could crush disrespectful humans into ashes and detach trunks from the ground. There was no creature as powerful and beautiful as him and the god was so, very alone, without anyone to share his power with. He developed a fondness for the human race, however, for they looked so much like like his upper part, the part which he liked better, the part which he felt was soft and warm to the touch. He hunted the most dangerous predators on the surface of the earth and creating a safe land for people to live on. People worshipped him and brought him offering, but he became greedy. He wanted more than humans could give and began taking what the humans did not willingly offer. As he took child after child, dark scales climbing up the lean torso, swallowing the human part of the god with feralness._

_When the only patch of soft flesh was left on the god was his face, he chose his hundredth boy to devour, a young child with the hair of flames and the eyes of gold. The child resembled him uncannily, terrifying the god. He feared that the boy would be his replacement and take away all the glories he now enjoyed. The violent god unhinged his jaw to consume his prey but the boy pressed himself willingly onto the venomous fang instead. Scalding innocent blood sprayed from his neck and stained the altar of the serpent god. The untainted blood washed away the scales from where was once flesh and the serpent god was reborn. The scales fell onto the young boy's corpse which now lied lifelessly on the cold ground and burst into flames. After the sun rose thrice, a female version of the serpent god emerged from the fire. She had fairer skin and a wider hip than the god that was drained and lying helplessly on the blood-soaked ground. The new god held her counterpart up by his neck with her clawed fingers and demanded his soul. Pressing their lips together, she drew a deep breath and sucked the serpent god's glowing essence into herself. She then laughed sinisterly, dragging the unconscious serpent god with her across the temple, staining his underbelly with bloodied dirt._

Aziraphale was lost in the story, thinking of the serpent god he once met in the woods. The god had feet, elegant legs in fact, which had carried him back into his bed from the crowded tree hole. And the arms, those arms felt as if they were moulded to hold him. Aziraphale had never felt safer than the moment he was held by the god. He could still vividly remember the soft tone the god spoke in. There's no resemblance between the being then and the being he was listening about now. _Was who he met really the serpent god?_ _Or was everything he believed in a fraud?_

In the corner he always settled in, Aziraphale realised the dark liquid was oozing out from under his seat and cried out aloud in shock. It was thick, stinky and clotted and looked like stale animal blood but the boy had no intention to know what that really was. He ran as fast as he could. He would not be weak for the cruel people to see. The laughter from other children made him want to vomit, but he wouldn’t give them that.

He ran back home, straight into the only place he knew he was safe from any harm. Deep between the pillows and blankets of which he still hadn't figured out the scent, Aziraphale sobbed silently. He didn’t know what he had done wrong to deserve this and he wondered if running away was a plausible option. He wondered when the sign would come? Or if the sign would _ever_ come. When would he finally be old enough for the god to claim him?

Contemplating his future, Aziraphale sobbed himself to sleep. His ragged breaths soothed into hiccups after a while and eased into snores after he fell asleep. In his hazy state, his trembling hands found the knot he’d always kept by his heart from the day he got it and held it tight, blunt nails digging into his soft palm. He wondered if the god would be able to find him if he left. Would the god even bother to come back an ordinary boy like him?

The boy mused and drifted off. In the shapeless dreams, Aziraphale found himself floating and heard the familiar velvety voice spoke.

_My poor Aziraphale. Will you still come to me? Will you forgive me for putting you through the cruelty of ignorant humans? My dear angel...My darling boy...I will grant you a life of prosperity and safety if you wish to leave. But if you still want to come to me, lay with our knot right where your heart beats and I will bring you home. Otherwise, burn the knot and you are free to a fresh start without me, but with a good place to stay and people who love you._

He felt himself enveloped in warmth, shoulders rubbed in securing circles, and he almost felt as if he found peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to comment and tell me what you think <3


	5. The Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the chosen child began his journey to the serpent god.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our angel boy might have some mistaken beliefs, but nothing happens!
> 
> The busiest month was coming to the end for me! That's something I've looked forward to for a long time.
> 
> Enjoy:)

Aziraphale opened his eyes to a half-lit sky, still too early to wake fully. He was tucked nicely in his fluffy pillows and none of his muscles felt funny, although he thought he fell asleep in a ridiculously cramped position. His eyes were barely puffy at all despite all the sobbing in the previous night and his face clean and soft to the touch with no tracks of dried tears.

He vaguely remembered the soothing feeling he had during his sleep. The sensation of being held and pet until he found his peace. The comfort of being promised a better and safer life. _The promise_ , he thought back to the words in his dream. Gentle instructions and guidance.

 _It had to be the god speaking, right_? The voice in his dream sounded similar to the gentle cooing he heard the night four years ago. Although the god never showed up again in his life, Aziraphale felt cared for nonetheless. He knew he'd be doing much worse had the deity never showed up. And for that he's grateful. He held no illusion that he could escape the cruelty of his fellow villagers, despite all the fairy tales and myths he had been listening to since he remembered things.

The boy thought back to the dream of pure darkness and the words as clear as lightning in a starless sky. Every word seared onto his young and too weak heart.

 **My poor Aziraphale. Will you still come to me?** The voice in his dream said, so sadly, almost begging. _Why did the god sound so sad_? _Why would a being so powerful and beautiful sound so small_? **My dear angel...My darling boy...I will grant you a life of prosperity and safety if you wish to leave.** The voice also said, calling to Aziraphale as if he was something worthy. The young boy dared not to think about whether he's worthy, of anything, of existing. It was easier to believe that what he had now was everything he could ever have. It was easier to be grateful for not being erased from existence.

 **But if you still want to come to me, lay with our knot right where your heart beats and I will bring you home.** The god also promised him a different future. **...burn the knot and you are free to a fresh start without me...** Aziraphale was given more choices. He did not understand the choice, however. How would he ever be able to pay the god back for his mercy if he had just left? Is this the god hinting that he did not want to meet Aziraphale again? That he would prefer not to lay his glorious eyes on a pitiful excuse of a human like Aziraphale was.

It was too many questions than Aziraphale could comprehend at the moment. Slowly, he laid himself back into the ocean of plushness and pressed his hand on the knot under his tunic. _Right where my heart beats_ , that's the god's instruction, he mused. Shifting, he pressed the ever so silky knot of their hair on the soft flesh where his soul trembled hopefully.

Idling tracing the strands of their hair, he realised he knew the shape of the knot better than any part of his own body. Having stared at it for hours in loneliness, there was nothing he couldn't recall with his eyes closed, but something was new this time as he pressed it to that specific spot of his chest. If he'd lost his mind, Aziraphale would swear that the knot pulsed, answering his own heartbeats. But given the recent development, Aziraphale would rather hold onto his last strand of sanity, so he ignored it and willed himself to doze off.

When it was time to start his day, Aziraphale woke to knocks on the door of his house. Four knocks to be precise, firm and certain, and surely heard throughout the house because his mother murmured soft words to Newton and answered the door.

"Ma'am, I'm here for Aziraphale," an unknown voice commanded. Surprised to hear his name, Aziraphale sprung up from the bed and peeked out from his room. Rachel was all he could see from this angle, but he stared determinedly nonetheless. She stepped back uncertainly but stayed at the door, blocking the visitor from Aziraphale's sight.

"Who are you?" She sounded scared, and Aziraphale felt fear climbing up along his spine as well. They'd already seen the serpent god, and whoever was by the door was not a lean and tall man-shaped being with a head of fire-like hair. The person sounded inhumanly deep but feminine as well. _Could it be the soul sucker?_ The thought of being taken by the soul sucker made his blood chilled.

"I'm sent by the serpent god," the voice announced and Aziraphale felt lightened immediately. _He'd be saved!_ He felt almost giddy, thinking about the life he could have outside of this small village.

"The child has answered his call."The person continued, surprising Aziraphale. _Had he answered the call?_ He thought back to what he did in the past few days, everything he did and went. _Had he?_ Then he remembered, pressing the knot against his chest before he dozed off. The electric feeling on both sides of his chest beating with another in sync.

Aziraphale missed that magical feeling.

Acting before he thought things through, Aziraphale rushed out of his room to the door where his mother stood. He would leave now, right this minute, if it meant he'd reach the serpent god soon. But he stopped in midst of his track when he saw the person at the door. It was a small woman, not much taller than he was, dark short hair covering half of her face, and her clothing a plainer version of the serpent god, black with a hint of red.

"Hello, little one," the woman saw him immediately, and greeted him with an awkward gentleness. Somehow the soft words and smile looked as if they belonged anywhere but her face. She nodded to Rachel and pushed over to talk to the boy. "You're Aziraphale, aren't you? The serpent god told me to show you this." The woman opened her palm and there were two pieces of flint. He stared at them, confused.

"If you want to be free from the bond, just burn the knot," she stated simply.

"Does he not want to see me?" Aziraphale felt his lips wobbled. He had looked forward to this day for so long. _Was all he dreamt about an empty promise_?

"He wanted to meet you properly for four years," the woman snorted. "He's obsessed with the idea that taking you away would be doing you harm."

"I want nothing more," the boy replied, standing straighter to demonstrate his determination, and the woman snorted once more, this softer and more affectionate than the last. His claim seemed to have comforted her.

"Great, come."

"Now?" Aziraphale squealed. _He hadn't even got dressed!_

"Well, I suppose you should put on something more suitable for travelling," she frowned at his clothing. "Go on. I'll wait here."

Rachel finally found her words back by the end of the exchange and if this strange woman thought she's going to let anyone take her boy away, she'd be wrong. However difficult it was to her to love someone she knew was going to die in disgrace and violence. However futile Aaron and her prayer seemed. She had done all she could to ensure her son could survive under the protection of the serpent god, she's not going to just let him go with anyone. Besides, life had improved significantly after the summoning of the serpent god. The family had abundant food and warm beddings. Who knew if things would be the same if the boy left?

"If you think I'd let you take my Ezra away," she raised her voice to stop the seemingly inevitable from happening but couldn't finish the sentence under the fierce stare of the visitor.

"Aziraphale, ma'am, is the name I suggest you use to refer to your son."

"Of course," Rachel swallowed nervously, cursing herself for being over her head with greed and disrespecting the person who could be a messenger of the serpent god. "Would I ever see him again?"

"That is not my promise to make," the woman said indifferently. "It depends on Aziraphale, and Aziraphale alone."

While the women spoke at the front door, Aziraphale frantically went through his room to pick out the things he wanted to keep and could carry. Having no idea whether they'd be travelling far, he decided to pack light, well... as light as he could. He didn't have much clothing to pack. The winter was over. For the next few months, he'd most likely be living in thin fabrics. By the time next winter came, he'd be too big for the clothes he wore this winter. Should he bring the serpent god's gifts over the years? There's no way he could carry all the pillows and scrolls with him. But, the scrolls were so pretty. He wished he could take some with him. He wouldn't be bored on the journey, at least. It's all very difficult to decide.

"Hello, um... how many things can I bring with me?" Instead of pulling his hair out, Aziraphale decided to approach the woman for instructions. _She'd know how much they could carry, right?_

"Well," she turned away from Rachel and waved dismissively. "Just bring enough clothes for the trip, five days? or six. I can send people to retrieve the rest if you want. Hell, if you want to live in the same room, he'll let you. He'll rebuild the entire house on his land if that's what you want."

 _He will?_ Aziraphale repeated in his mind. Everything he heard was so confusing. _Why?_

"Go pack, we need to leave soon," she scowled and Aziraphale hurried to obey.

He quickly gathered a small pile of clothing and stuffed them into a bag which he could easily carry over his shoulder. He didn't carry the bag for long, though. The moment he walked out of his room, the black-haired woman snatched the bag from him, muttering that the god would pull her arms out if she let the boy carry the bag.

By the time they walked toward the door, Aaron stood there with his mouth half-opened. He looked speechless and pained.

"He's leaving?" The father whispered and his wife and son nodded silently, tear spilling from his brilliant blue eyes.

"Can I bid them farewell?" Aziraphale looked hopefully at his to-be travel companion. She said nothing but stood back to leave them space.

Shakily, Aziraphale knelt on the ground and lowered his head to bow to Aaron and shifted to do the same to Rachel before standing back up on wobbly legs. He bowed so low his head rubbed against the dusty ground. With his dirtied forehead, he stumbled into the room where Newton was. Aziraphale whispered his goodbye and kissed his soft chubby cheeks. The older boy's tear dampened Newton's peaceful dreams and the younger boy raised a hand to wipe away the itch. Aziraphale chuckled before walking back to the woman.

In sorrowful silence, the pair walked towards the edge of the village. Aziraphale felt hopeful about his future but sad to leave the place he'd lived in since his birth and Tracy. _Oh, Tracy!_ He was so submerged in leaving his family that he had forgotten to say goodbye to the people that had taken care of him more than he deserved.

"Wait!" He shouted and the woman beside him stopped good-naturely. Aziraphale ran back, towards the house where Tracy and Shadwell lived but bumped into a blur of vibrant colour midway instead. Tracy was crying when she pulled Aziraphale into a loving embrace. She pressed kisses on his soft curls and whispered encouragement into his ears.

"My brave, darling boy," she squeezed him tightly in her arms. "Remember what I taught you. Everything. Keep the god happy. Everything will work out well for you, alright?"

Aziraphale nodded. He was sobbing too much to utter a coherent sentence, but he could tell that Tracy understood what he wanted to say. She smiled sadly at him and let him go. Shadwell came up to pat Aziraphale on his arm and pulled Tracy towards him. They waved at him when Aziraphale finally walked out of the village.

The journey to the serpent god was longer than Aziraphale expected. He didn't mind much, mostly because he was stuffed into a comfortable carriage as soon as they walked out the sight of villagers. He immediately understood why the carriage was left here instead of brought inside the village.

The carriage in front of him was made out of polished mahogany. On some surface, there was the vague shape of a serpentine body, making the entire carriage looked as if circled by a gigantic serpent. The boy stared at the intricate details on the wood in awe. He'd never seen anything as beautiful as this, apart from the serpent god himself perhaps.

Inside the carriage, there were soft pillows and blankets like those in his bed. Aziraphale stared at the woman, who simply shrugged and helped him in. "He's a diva. What can I say."

When the carriage moved, Aziraphale yelped. He had never travelled in a carriage before and did not expect everything to shake. Covered in thick blankets made the travel easier on the boy. Aziraphale even dozed off at some point when he realised that the scenery was going to be the same shade of green for quite some time.

He was wakened by the woman when the dusk arrived. They must have been on the road for hours, he thought, although he had no idea how where they were at the moment. She helped him out of the carriage and supported him to stand straight before his cramped legs agreed to cooperate. The house in front of him looked old and worn out, but tidier than most beside it. He supposed it's where they're staying for the night.

The room he was led into was dimly lit and roughly the size of his room. Some of the pillows in the carriage were arranged on the bed to make sure it was as cosy as could be. There's only one bed, although generously wide, it's mostly covered with pillows.

"Thank you for taking care of me," The boy bowed. "Um, may I know your name, miss?"

"Bee," she answered coolly. "And you can rest in the bed if you're tired. I'm not sleeping in the same bed with you. He'd kill me. Well, probably not literally kill me, but I'd still prefer having all limbs attached after this journey."

"Where would you rest, then, Miss Bee?"

"Just Bee," she slammed her face with her hand in annoyance, which Aziraphale now noticed was disproportionately small. "I'll find somewhere on the ground."

"We can move the pillows to the ground or back in the carriage and share the bed, Bee."

"I would appreciate you more if you don't try to get me murdered," she sighed.

"Do you dislike me?" Aziraphale asked. Ever since they met, Bee had been nothing but polite and nice to him, but she also seemed awkward and got annoyed constantly.

"I don't, dislike you, that is," she sighed again and shrugged. "It's just who I am. I'm not a happy person."

"Are you sad?" Aziraphale tried to comprehend what she meant by not being a happy person. _Had she undergone something bad_? He'd always had the serpent god watching over him, did she had that?

"Well, not exactly," Bee sat down on the spot Aziraphale made for her on the bed. "I'm worried, I guess. I'd never seen him like this before. I've been serving the serpent god for the past fifteen years and I've never seen him so happy and I'm afraid for what might happen after you meet."

"You've been with the serpent god for fifteen years?" Aziraphale gaped.

"Yeah," Bee chuckled. "That's not my point though. Just, please, don't hurt him and don't let him down. He's immortal, probably invincible even, but he'd been through a lot."

"I'm most grateful for what he did for me," Aziraphale lowered his head timidly, not grasping how he would have the capability to hurt the serpent god. "I'd never brought him harm."

"That's good to know. He gave the most detailed instructions on how to treat you nicely, for fuck sake. He's gone mad for you, if you ask me," Bee snorted, nodding at the basin at the corner. "Now, I'll go gather our supper and you can freshen up with the water over there."

Aziraphale nodded and whispered his thank as Bee left the room.

Supper was nice, and the next day of travel was nice as well. The carriage was large and filled to the rim with softness. Whenever Aziraphale felt the slightest hint of thirst or hunger, Bee always had a decent selection for him to choose from. Not that the boy dared to ask much, but the thoughtfulness of the intimidating women helped he gradually grow more comfortable with his companion.

On the third morning, the day was good. The air was warm and crisp and the sky clear. Aziraphale felt a sudden change of heart that he's farther from his past and closer to his future. Practically vibrating with giddiness, the boy stuck his head out of the carriage, enjoying the wind ruffling his curls and the warm sun on his half-closed eyelids.

"Boy," he heard Bee tutted. "Back inside. I'll have my face torn off so much as a twig scratches your cheeks."

"Can I please walk with you? It's so pretty out there!" The boy pleaded, hoping that he'd at least be allowed to enjoy the scene a little.

"Uh, trouble. Kids are so much trouble," Bee grumbled good-naturedly but stopped the carriage and began pushing around on the external surface of the carriage and magically created a seat on the outside, just behind the ride. "I'm not letting you on a horse, but you can stay here for a while."

Aziraphale cheered excitedly and thanked Bee for the trouble.

"I told you, he gave me very detailed instructions on how to keep you happy," she snorted and Aziraphale flushed in response, feeling spoilt and very grateful. He wiggled to get comfortable in the newly created space and felt overwhelmed by the surrounding. They were travelling beside a river that day, luscious grass under the carriage and rhythmic rippling a few feet away. He was even allowed a few minutes of dipping his feet in the water while Bee took care of the horse.

The next three days carried on in a similar fashion. As they move forward, the greenery became more vibrant and animals more cheerful. The boy occasionally enjoyed the company of some chirpy birds or tame rabbits who hopped around him when they stopped to rest.

On the seventh morning, Bee announced that they're arriving the territory of the serpent god that day. The knot touching Aziraphale's skin suddenly became very present. He could almost felt it scalding his chest and his heart beat energetically to respond to that burning.

The woods they entered that day was uncharacteristically quiet, compared to how vibrant the wildlife had been in the past days of their trip. Aziraphale tried to listen and search for any movements but failed, everything was almost still, fixed in time and space in a way that the boy had never experienced. Everything he saw was miraculously perfect. Every leaf and blossom was vibrant and full and flawless.

The boy couldn't help but nagged Bee to let him walk between the beauty. He stared and praised the plants as he walked past them. Drinking in the unbelievable sight of nature. _Should he have brought gifts for the serpent god?_ He wondered as he felt the ground under his feet. He'd leave his house in a rush and didn't think about it. Now that he thought about it, he probably should have brought something. He had accepted so much from the deity. _Would it be appropriate to take the flowers from his land as a gift?_ Aziraphale found himself wondering, fingers itching to touch the delicate petals.

"I didn't tell you this," Bee whispered beside his ear. "But he'd be over the moon had you bring him a handful of flowers."

Aziraphale swallowed and nodded, cleverly not thanking the woman for the information that she most definitely did not provide. He skipped back to the carriage, rummaged through all their belongings to get his finest belt, a cream-coloured silk ribbon with decorative golden threads. He picked out the most beautiful blossoms among the greenery. Soon he had gathered a decent collection with his tunic.

Carefully, Aziraphale carried the flowers to where Bee sat down to rest and laying them out to arrange them. He firstly fell in love with the dainty flowers in the colour of new chicks. Pale yellow colour almost faded into white on the edges. The shape of each petal delicately round with adorable split on the tips. He also fell in love with an eyeful of faint purple. There were so many of them covering the ground, almost as if they're a carpet laid out for him. The blossom itself was delicate and thin, almost translucent when held to the sun. Aziraphale also picked out some elaborative flower to be the centre of the bundle. Five stems of white flowers proudly stood in his hand. These flowers had countless tiny petals surrounding the stamen, each thin and feather-like. When he was finally satisfied with the arrangement, the boy showed it to Bee with a grin and they continued their trip toward the serpent god's palace.

As they walked, one particular kind of blossom became the only plant Aziraphale saw. Nearly every inch of land was covered in white flowers with prominent stamen, creating a luscious carpet made of white and green speckles. The sight took Aziraphale's breath away and could barely remember to tag along when Bee made her way into the palace.

The hallway was covered in dark bricks, their surface had worn off after a long history of being touched. In the corridors far away, there are humans in dark clothing like Bee's. Aziraphale clutched the bundle of flower tightly in front of his stomach nervously. He'd always imagined seeing the serpent god again, but none of his imagination prepared him for the possibility of joining the household full of the god's servants.

Before Aziraphale pulled himself out from the spiralling thoughts, they pulled to a stop in front of an elaborative door, different from any other humble one they've walked past on their way. On the surface of the wooden door, there are patterns of snake scales similar to the ones on the carriage Aziraphale had spent the past week. The edge of each scale gold. Bee pressed a metal key into the boy's hand and gestured him to open it. The lock on the door was a heavy one, taking him a moment to work on it.

"If you don't feel like meeting anyone, lock it and everyone here will leave you alone," she explained when they walked into the room. "That's just you, of course. If you need anything, knock on any door and someone will help you."

Vastly different from the other parts of the palace, the interior of the room was a lighter palette. The wall a shade of beige, and the floor grey smooth marble. In the middle of the room, there's a four-post bed. White curtains with gold threads flowing over the perfectly made bed. Aziraphale gasped in surprise, whispering disbelief.

"He likes making you happy," Bee snorted, guiding the speechless child to the farther end of the room where a smaller room attached. Inside there were chests of clothing, every single piece the most luxurious fabric the boy had ever seen, a nice selection of boots and slippers, and a smaller collection of jewellery, set out nicely on a silver plate. "See what I mean?"

"It might be mistaken," Aziraphale stared at the woman beside him with wide blue eyes. "I'm simply asking for a shelter. These must have been for someone else."

"There's no one else. Come in," Bee sighed. A knock on the door drawing her attention. "Now, Aziraphale, these are the maids that'll be looking after you. If you need anything, you can ask them for it. Or if you need me, let them come fetch me. We'll see if there's need for a tutor in the near future, but let's get you to settle down first."

The young boy stared at the line of servants with disbelief. He had thought he'd be under the wings of the serpent god, so to speak, working under his protection as one of the servants like other humans he took into protections. While Tracy had warned him about the rare bond the god created with the knot of hair, he'd always thought it's part of the efforts to stop the soul sucker from taking him away. Now that everything fell into places, it seemed like he was actually bonded with the serpent god in a special way, which he wasn't sure he was ready for.

"Will I see the serpent god?" Aziraphale forced out the words shakily. "Is this his room?"

"Well, every room here is his, technically. But, no. This is your chamber. He has his own on the other end of the corridor," Bee answered. "You must be exhausted, shaking like that. Let's get some rest, alright? They can have supper set up in this room when you're rested. Now, do you want someone here in case you need something?"

The boy shook his head shakily and sighed when the line of servants laid out some soft rags, a basin of warm water, a jug of drinking water, a cup, some sliced fruits, and a robe, and walked out. When the room was empty, he hugged himself silently and stared at the robe, contemplating the situation he was now in.

After several deep breaths, Aziraphale bit his lower lip and set into motion. He dipped a piece of the rags into the warm water and cleaned himself thoroughly, rubbing the grime and sweat from his journey and slipped into the robe, tying the belt around his waist neatly. Taking the bundle of flowers back in his hand, Aziraphale shuffled onto the large bed and kneeled in the centre of it, and prayed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!
> 
> You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/vw_everything) and [ Tumblr](https://verywrongeverything.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> I would like to point out that tying two people's hair together is indeed a symbol of marriage in Chinese culture and the part where Aziraphale kneeled before his parent is what brides do before leaving their original families. These are not accurate rituals, but I think it's enough to show that in a way the boy and the god have been spouses for a long time already. (I don't think I'm not spoiling anything. This much we all kind of know...)


	6. A New Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The serpent god visited Aziraphale in his room for the first time and it wasn't what he had hoped for. 
> 
> Chapter warning:  
> -Aziraphale had self-esteem issues in this chapter and misunderstood the intention of the serpent god.  
> -Implied sexual activities (in the past)  
> -Violence (not happening presently)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it's been a very long time since I last updated. I had some uni stuff to take care of and I've been trying to fix things in this chapter, which were apparently beyond my ability.
> 
> I cannot thank you all enough for your patience with me. The comments and kudos have been pushing me to work on this chapter when I doubted if I could ever come up with something that is not a disaster. 
> 
> Now that I'm done rambling about me, please enjoy this chapter.

It took the serpent god a long time to get ready emotionally to reunite with his angel. The boy he'd loved through every incarnation. The boy he'd been watching from afar for the past four years. The boy, with the softest hair, the most beautiful smile, and the most alluring eyes, now staying under his care, surrounded by items he'd picked out after intense contemplation.

The serpent god looked down at himself. He didn't even look human at the moment, patches of dark scales surfacing due to his anxiety. He'd been struggling to stay in his humanoid form ever since he sent Bee out to fetch his boy. It was a two-week trip and today was the day they were scheduled to return. The serpent god had paced in the newly set room on the other end of the main corridor for hours, making sure not one thing was out of place. When the sun hit the highest spot of the sky, he finally decided to wait in his own room, trusting Bee to take care of everything and get Aziraphale settled and rested.

The serpent god waited until the sun hung low behind the mountains and the sky painted red to visit his boy. He'd let himself into the room quietly and felt his chest burst with rage when he saw the state of Aziraphale. Head lowered, the boy kneeled in the centre of the bed, dressed in the robe he'd prepared for him to sleep in––it was the softest fabric he could find––but the child was anything but asleep. Slightly trembling with fear, Aziraphale whispered the hymn he'd sung so many times for the serpent god before bed.

He had cherished these moments. The soft voice whispering praise and worship and he pretended they were meant for him. In a way they were, the boy only knowing so much about the world did direct the words towards the serpent god; in a way, they weren't as well, the boy sang hymns for him without knowing what a horrible creature he really was.

When his weakness crept up to him, the serpent god could see the disappointment in those doe-like eyes. The last thing he wanted was to break the heart of the being he loved most, to disappoint. It was hilarious how a powerful being like him was actually at the mercy of the little boy.

With all his immortal power, the serpent god had showered his first lover with affection and care. He had given him everything, except immortality. They had been taking their time, looking for a way they could both be mortal or immortal. Either way would be beyond their wildest dreams. Powerful the serpent god might be, but he held no real superiority under the tender love of his blonde mate.

He, the ruler of the woods, the mightiest of all creature, let a vulnerable human braid flowers into those auburn locks every morning and willed the petals to stay as vibrant as they had ever been until the boy untangled his braids in their bed at night.

He wanted to recreate the tenderness for the boy a few feet away. The new life with the same face. The same voice. The same scent. How, on earth, could the serpent god not lose himself in the familiarity. How could he not flinch when the gaze once so devastated looked at him with innocence instead?

"Well, I certainly hope that's the right hymn for you, serpent god," when the hymn reached its end, the boy whispered miserably. He swallowed nervously and announced to the empty room, "I am prepared to consummate the bond. I suppose it doesn't matter if I am, though."

The serpent god hated that the boy sounded scared and resigned. _Of course, it matters!_ He shouted silently, wanting to carve out his heart of for the boy to see. To see there was nothing the boy needed to be afraid of. Wanting the purest soul that he loved so deeply to know that the last thing he'd do was to harm him. But he suspected that his appearance would only scare the boy more, so he stayed put, keeping himself in the shadows, where he belonged in the face of such pure beauty.

"Would I give myself up if it'd make you happy?" He heard the boy thought aloud, hesitant and nervous. "I suppose I would. I should, rather. I owe my life to you and every minute I live was borrowed."

 _That was enough_ . The serpent god decided. _Pessimism does not suit his angel._ With a snap and a blow of breath, the serpent god cast a spell on the boy and he dozed off quickly. The flowers in his hand dropped on the bed sheet beside him and the body fell limp. The serpent god rushed over to lay the now limp body onto the bed gingerly. He felt the beating pulse and let out a sigh of relieve. It was a stupid worry and he knew that, but his chest tightened at the sight of Aziraphale's body dropping to the bed. Arranged the blankets to wrap the boy in a warm cocoon, the serpent god snuggled up to the sleeping boy with a sad smile.

He had waited for this moment for so long. He had wanted to hold the delicate body of his lover again since he found this incarnation. He would make him feel loved and protected. The love didn't have to be romantic, nor carnal. The boy didn't even need to reciprocate. The deity would give him all he had accumulated over his long life. But, the ageless being did not anticipate _this_. He was not aware of how the bond he so recklessly made had spoiled the boy's childhood.

As he watched the creases between the pale brows fade, the serpent god couldn't help but ran his elegant fingers through the curls and rubbed the scalp underneath. They were as soft as he remembered. Everything he remembered seemed to have come from a long time ago and judging by human standards, those did happen a long time ago. The stories of the serpent god and the golden boy were sung in some villages from generation and generation. While they were not necessarily accurate, knowing that he wasn’t the only being to remember the transcendent beauty and bravery of his lover made the serpent god less lonely.

During their time together, the serpent god enjoyed making the human listen to the hymns, face burning scarlet under the praises from strangers. He had memorised some of them, reciting the lines as he worshipped the soft flesh of his lover. _They were not meant for humans like me_ , his boy would protest. _Perhaps they weren't and perhaps the hubris brought them their end_.

Occasionally, he hummed a line or two under his breath, just to remind his numbing heart the pain his love had suffered. He didn't deserve to grow numb. He deserved to live every immortal minute under great misery for not keeping his promise of protecting his love. He hummed quietly at the boy in peaceful slumber.

_"His earthly flesh steals away immortal breaths.  
The golden boy and his deep ocean eyes,   
Pale and innocent, he stood beside the violent god.   
Kind and pure, he moulded the blackened heart.   
Jet-black scales and golden skin,   
The pair of lovers blew life into the soil,   
even in patches where nothing could have grown. _

_As greed grew, they can no longer grant.  
Against the touch-polished altars, wars were waged.  
In the face of the blood-thirsty crowd,  
The golden boy blessed the earth with his honey-sweet voice.  
"More!" the crowd chanted.  
The golden boy then fertilised the ground with his nectar-pure tears.   
"More!" the crowd chanted, still.  
The mortal boy then gilded the floor with his golden blood.   
Some sobbed regretful tears at the sight of his porcelain cheeks,  
_ _but more chanted "more!"  
The boy had nothing left but the god's love,   
So he breathed out his last mortal breath,  
And blessed the crowd with his dying wish.  
The golden boy prayed to his lover  
to love all humans as he him. _

Soon after the boy drew his final breath,  
The serpent god descended in his full glory,  
With eyes as bright as the sun and a tail as dark as night-time sky.  
He wielded his wings to shield his love,  
But it was too late.  
In his iron-solid arms,  
He held his blood-stained lover.  
With his own blackened tears,  
The serpent god showered the body,  
Once sparkled as the purest pearl*

The serpent god did not in fact cried out blackened tears, but he did cry his throat raw. He would give the boy anything he wanted in this life. But nothing will be enough to compensate what he had sacrificed to satisfy angry villagers. Laying soft kisses on the pale forehead, the serpent god left to make sure his palace would be as accommodating as could be for Aziraphale.

Outside the newly furnished chamber, the god's servants awaited. They knew how their master had looked forward to this and they wanted him to be happy. He had taken care of them when they were helpless and had been kind to them ever since. 

"Guys, I need a few favours," the god announced when he let himself out of the room, looking defeated. Outside the door, four figures stand, tense."I need you to take care of him. Well, not you four, but let the servants take good care of him. You're going to scare the shit out of that gentle soul.

"And have someone good with words explain to him that I'm not taking him in as a human sacrifice or sexual plaything. He can leave whenever he wants and he'd still be protected for the rest of his life."

"You're so full of bullshit," Bee sprung up from her slouching against the wall, annoyed. "Why are you giving this away! You know you want to be close to him!"

"I'm not having this conversation in front of everyone, Bee. Don't forget your place," the god warned, murderous stare in his golden eyes. He turned to the indifferent figure in pure white clothing. "Blanc, wherever he goes, make it properly spring-like, all blooming flowers and chirping birds."

The figure, Blanc, said nothing and stared at him blankly.

"Fine," the serpent god growled. It wasn't her fault that the snow melted slower than it should, and he knew it. His horsemen helped him whip beings in shape, but he's the one with the real power. The weather changed accordingly to his mood. "I'll keep myself in check. Just promise me to keep him happy and safe, alright?"

The woman gave him a toothy grin. He then reminded the red-haired woman to make sure Aziraphale had enough to eat and wear at all time, given that she should be in charge of the servants this season. She snorted short-temperedly and shrugged her red leather cape clad shoulders. The dark-skinned man beside her snickered at the annoyed look on the serpent god's face and earned them both a death-glare from said deity. At last, after a long list of instructions, they're dismissed, leaving Bee behind, who took a step forward instead, frowning at the defeated god.

"What's wrong," She asked.

"What's wrong?" The god bit out a bitter laugh. "I wonder what's wrong with you people. Why are there always people trying to exploit him, hurt him, plant falsehood in his innocent mind? Why is he always suffering because of me?"

"I could see there's some misunderstanding in the village," Bee confessed. "What did they tell him, though?"

"They told him disgusting things like I'm taking him here to consummate our bond," the powerful immortal yelled. "For someone's sake, Bee. I don't know what to say anymore. How could they tell that to a boy as young as Aziraphale? I'm leaving them be because he wouldn't want me hurting them"

Bee did not have an answer either. She had witnessed the ruthlessness of humans first hand. Being forced into child labour from a very young age, picking shiny stones in the deepest end of caves, she had known how cruel her fellow humans could be to innocent lives. Her nimble fingers and great eyesight, which would have done her good had she been born in a different world. They brought her scratches and malnutrition instead. She had barely grown an inch taller since she first climbed into the dark underworld.

"He kneeled there last night," pointing his finger at the room behind him, the god wanted to weep. He wanted to cry out the tear that his love was forced to swallow. "In the robe that's supposed to give him a good night of sleep. He put himself in that and wait for me to take him, trembling. He was only ten! Ten!"

"We'll take good care of him. It's not my season. I can take him around. It'll do him good to have a face he recognises around," Bee nodded empathetically. "And you take good care of you. You might not die, but you're gonna spook that child out looking like a walking corpse."

The serpent god grumbled and waved her away.

Aziraphale did not quite know how to feel about the serpent god's absence. The worries he felt when he kneeled on the bed was still there. Eating him from the inside out. Telling him that he's not enough. That he's nothing but a disappointment. He tried to move around in the tight cocoon he was wrapped in and realised that it's perfectly constructed to keep him warm throughout the night. He sighed, not knowing how to react to everything that's been happening. 

The boy then walked towards the basin of water and washed his face with cold water from last night. The water splashed loudly in the empty room and the door opened, a small squad of servant rushing in with a collection of items again. Much like the evening before.

Leading the line of people was Bee and a red-hair woman he'd never seen before. They looked intense. More intense than anyone should be in the morning. _It was morning, wasn't it? He hadn't slept for too long and messed up their schedule, had he?_

"Did I do something wrong?" Aziraphale stopped his movements mid-way and asked with his tiny voice. Everything he'd done seemed wrong. He had no idea why he woke wrapped in warm blankets, but he knew he must have done something wrong. _He couldn't not have. Doing the wrong thing was in his nature._ _Something stopping the serpent god taking him like he was supposed to be taken to fulfil the bond. He was supposed to wake up somewhere near the god, wasn't he? That's the point of consummation_. Or so he was told.

"You two are impossible!" Bee yelled at the uncertain boy. "I'm gonna stop you right there. Go change into comfortable clothes and get things in your stomach. Now. And we'll talk later."

Aziraphale whimpered in shock but complied, allowing others to change him into a soft cotton shirt and linen trousers, everything as soft as he imagined cloud was. Warm soup and bread were served on a table at the corner of the room, fragrant and hearty. He had no idea where everything was heading, and the treatment made him fret. Too much attention. Too many people moving around.

He tried to be as small as possible, which was impossible since everyone in the room had their eyes locked on him. He scrambled out of his chair, almost knocking over the bowl and plate when the young girl beside him carved out a new piece of bread to trade the crust he left on the plate with the soft inside of another piece.

"There's no need!" He squealed, anxiously reaching to retract the taken bread. The girl looked unsure, still. "I only did that out of habit. I used to keep the crust to have something to nibble during the day."

"Ada, put it back, it's alright," Bee interjected, tapping the shoulder of the girl. 

"Thank you, Ada," Aziraphale whispered uncertainly when the girl put his crust back.

"It's no trouble," Ada smiled coyly at him. "We're here to take care of you."

The rest of the meal continued rather uneventfully, for which Aziraphale was thankful. He felt under great pressure as it was. When both the plate and bowl was cleared, Ada stepped forward and collected them all onto her tray. A dark-skinned girl came up and wrapped him in warm, woolly coat. Aziraphale whispered his thank in return.

He felt bad about not knowing the names of these kind people, so he asked Bee as he was getting dressed for the day. Bee firstly nudged the woman beside her, the red-haired leader of the team and announced that Carmine here was in charge of everything inside the palace during Spring. She then pointed to Ada, black hair and pale skin, then Berta, the young girl who just dressed him in the cloak, and Alan, Bert and Colin, who helped arrange the room and carried things in and out of the room. All of them were either in similar clothing as Bee or him, that is plainly cream or black.

Aziraphale tried to memorise the name of each and expressed his thank as they were introduced. Each one of them smiled brightly at him in return, except Bee and Carmine, who seemed deeply disturbed by the warming atmosphere in the room.

"Bee, this is ridiculous," Carmine complained loudly. "He cannot subject me to all these touchy feelings. It's gross."

Bee snickered but had mercy on her companion and guided Aziraphale around the palace, leaving Carmine in charge of cleaning up.

A quick trip around the palace let Aziraphale know where to go had he need anything and where not to go if he wanted to stay in one piece. Aziraphale thought about how lovely everything is. _But of course, it is_ , he tutted himself. _How could anything be less than perfect for the serpent god?_ He thought about himself miserably. _He was such a disappointment_.

"Good job, Blanc!" Bee shouted at the crown of one of the trees and stopped under the shade of it. Sunlight sparkled on the lush grass under the shadow as the branches swayed in the wind and they stood there watching the movements for a while.

"I need you to know something," Bee started, guiding Aziraphale down to sit. "And I think it's best to put everything as straight forward as possible."

Aziraphale swallowed and nodded nervously, mentally bracing himself for what was to come. He had no idea what it may be, nor any idea about what he would do had something came. He was lost, completely at the mercy of the serpent god and his servants.

"The serpent god will never do anything that might harm you. He cares for you deeply, for whatever reason I have no idea. But I suppose that's normal to mortal beings like us. We seldom understand things they do," Bee looked into his eyes determinedly. "But you can trust him. Every one of us thinks so. We've seen how deeply he cared for you. He wants to take care of you and he expects nothing in return.

"It's ridiculous,"she chuckled when she saw the boy's eyes widened in disbelief. "A powerful being like him, getting so frustrated."

The boy protested embarrassedly, but she continued. "Oh yes, you mattered. I guess you must be someone special." 

"We are a family here. Not connected by blood, but we understand and take care of each other. The serpent god treats us like humans when our fellow humans didn't."

"Yes, and I'm forever thankful for that," Aziraphale whispered, trying his best to sound grateful. 

"We want you to feel welcomed in the family of ours," Bee squeezed the boy's soft shoulder and joked. "I had no idea what you are doing to him, but he's nicer like this. Not numb in his personal hell. So whatever you do, keep him this way and we'll be as loyal to you as we are to him."

Before Aziraphale could answer, he felt Bee pulling him into a hug and rubbing his back soothingly. He was crying, letting go of the burden he'd reigned in for so long. Finally, he might be cared for and belong somewhere. The thought itself was brighter than anything.

After supper, Aziraphale thanked everyone that helped him with getting ready for bed and bid all of them goodnight, standing at the doorway of his room and waving while Bee snickered beside him at his ridiculous manners. 

"Thank you for the trip and talk today," Aziraphale said to her sincerely when Bee was the last person in the room with him. "I would love nothing better than becoming close to you all."

"That's great," Bee grumbled. "Don't have silly ideas like offering yourself to him, alright? I know what people thought the bond was about. In a way they're right, but mostly they're not. He's gonna take care of you, not forcing you into things you might not want."

"I'm not particularly opposed to the idea," Aziraphale started but was interrupted by Bee before he could finish the whole sentence.

"Okay, first of all, I am not interested in your plan to sleep with the serpent god. Second, you are absolutely too young to have this conversation. Three," _he's gonna strangle me if he knew we had this conversation._ She cleared her throat. "Whatever, I did not hear a word you just said."

Aziraphale blushed, suddenly realising that what they're talking about might have been intimate and private. He hadn't known that. He had thought in someways the consummation of the bond was frown upon, but the disapproving looks were always thrown at him openly. Hostile judgements of him willingly being the plaything of a powerful in exchange for his life and safety. It never occurred to him that there's something intimate about that.

The door closed with Bee's grumble, then he was alone again.

When the serpent god entered the room that night, he was pleased to see his boy buried deep in the pile of pillows on his bed, holding onto a scroll of stories he had gifted him a long time ago. He reached out to take the scroll but was resisted by a tightened hold and a whimper. The boy held the scroll tighter to his chest and buried himself into the soft fuzz of a pillow.

The god smiled, allowing his body the freedom to manifest a scaly tail, moulded to fit around the heap that was the boy's body. It felt warm to be near the boy even on top of layers of fabric. He was also delighted to sense the boy's posture un-tensed under the weight of his tail.

 _He could do this every night_ , he thought. _He would stay beside the boy and guard him in his dreams._

As the night proceeded, the god wondered what the boy dreamt of. The pale round face was unbelievably expressive, frowning and whimpering and relaxing and smiling. He wondered if the boy ever dreamt of him, beside the times he actually intruded the boy's mind to communicate, of course.

He himself had never dreamt of anything other than his lover. Well, sometimes he dreamt of a dark, bottomless pit, but that in a way was his lover as well. The gigantic void in his immortal heart after the leaving of his love. So, he hadn't ever dreamt of anything other than his love.

Sometimes the dreams were bright and lively, replaying the very first time the boy uttered his name, the vibrant giggles that the boy so often did when they were together. Other times he relived the moments when he saw the boy lounging on the soft bed or grass, deliciously soft skin shone under the sunlight and the beautiful human beaming at the scrolls in his hands.

Other times he tried not to dwell on but failed. In those dreams, he remembered how their body fit. How his immortality finally felt like power and not a curse. How the soft flesh drew him in and show him how the most horrendous mistakes could be forgiven. How a guilty being like him could still love and be loved back.

The dreams that haunted him most frequently after he found Aziraphale four Springs ago were about the death of his first lover. The weight of his lifeless body in his arms. The river of blood that was not unlike the ones of his own rebirth. The promise that he had never broken, but never fulfilled either. He could not love anyone like he did Aziraphale, but he did take care of humans that came to him the way he knew Aziraphale would. That's the best he could do. And he doubted the man could come back and scold him. _He must have been a pile of ashes by now_ , the serpent god reminded himself, except he knew the corpse of the man was not a pile of ash. He would never wake again, but neither will he be a tad less perfect than he always was. The serpent god would never stand for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to say hi or scream, you can find me on [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/very_wrong_everything/) and [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/verywrongeverything). 
> 
> The next chapter should be up before next weekend.


	7. Another day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There were things happening elsewhere while Aziraphale spent some time with his new friends...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm back again! 
> 
> There's not a lot going on but it's time to meet some unpleasant characters! 
> 
> **CW: implied death and rape, Gabriel being an a*hole

In another corner of the vast land, there was a grand banquet happening in the court of Centeria. The kingdom was celebrating the union of its king, Gabriel, and his new queen, Uriel. Aristocrats flooded to the palace to attend the celebration. Most had hoped for an opportunity to earn some attention from the king. Gabriel was not known to be a generous king, but one would surely be in good mood for their wedding, right? Others were youngsters who had their heart broken by the news of Gabriel's marriage and wanted to see who was this foreign bride of their king. Gabriel had refused to take a consort since his coronation and focused on expanding his kingdom instead. Countless young man and woman had been head over heels for the majestic king after seeing him in armour on his signature white horse. 

A long stream of carriages showed up at the entrance of the palace. Music and light spilling out of the thick walls. Guests danced in circles in the golden gilded hall. Despite the gleeful celebration, an undercurrent of nerve and tension persisted as the evening proceeded. None dared to approach the wide strip of crimson carpet cut across the room, let alone the muscular man lounged on an elaborate throne at the end of it.

Once in a while, the crowd chanted praises for king Gabriel and queen Uriel. The king glanced at the crowd with indifferent eyes, the corner of his thin lips quirked up smugly. Once in a long while, he cocked his head at the dark-skinned woman beside him, holding his half-full glass of wine high. The queen would smile at him in return and take an elegant sip from her own.

Tonight marked the beginning of their union. The banquet was grander than any mortal had ever held. Everyone in the room knew that after this night, the kingdom of Centeria would be invincible and would eventually conquer the entire land. What they didn't know was the cause of Gabriel's furrowing brows.

The king rested lounged authoritatively in the throne, watching the entertainment in front of his with a chilling smile. It was a predatory smile. The smile of a man in control. But the guests could see his angular jaw clenched and nostrils flared rhythmically, as he seemed to be lost deep in thought. They knew better than to annoy king Gabriel at times like this. They watched the king’s every movement intently, hoping that when the powerful man spoke, their lives wouldn’t be in danger.

Gabriel's fingers mindlessly brushed over the hand-rest of his throne. The new queen, Uriel, sat quietly on a smaller throne, with her back straight as a rod. It was her last shred of dignity, for all with eyes knew that she was here to seal the deal between Centeria and Cursia. The deal was going to make Gabriel the most powerful king in the land and keep her homeland in one piece. 

Uriel was decades to Gabriel's junior, the only princess of a wealthy yet far away kingdom, Cursia. The new queen did not look engaged in any of the events unfolding in front of her. Despite the night being dedicated to her union with the mightiest king alive, Uriel did not seem overly thrilled by her fate. She held her head high, tilting her chin slightly upward, showing off the golden patches painted on her dark-skin to accentuate her features.

Guests sang and danced across the floor, while the higher-ranked aristocrats sat on their seats with delicate nibbles and wine. All of them stayed steps away from Gabriel as the night proceeded. 

The heavy door to the hall opened suddenly, and a man walked in with a worn lute strapped on his shoulder. His dark hair a wild mess and his gown an aggressive palette for the eyes. The guard stepped forward to hold the man down at the instant but Gabriel simply smirked and waved them away. The king looked oddly pleased with the latest guest.

"Good news?" The well-built man sat straighter in his throne, eyes suddenly glinting with excitement. None of the guests seemed to know what was going on. The unexpected development grasped the attention of everyone. None dared to move their eyes an inch away. Even Uriel, who showed no interest in any previous event, cautiously traced every movement of the king.

"Only good news for you, my lord," the visitor exclaimed over-cheerfully, walking towards the steps to Gabriel's throne as he reached into his gown. All guards had their hands on their swords immediately again. He took out a folded sketch and handed it over to the king.

"This is the chosen child?" Gabriel frowned at the sketch in his hand, looking unsure. He could barely make out the subject of the smudged sketch, but from what he saw it was a chubby child in peasant clothing. Nothing of the child look like the treasure of a powerful deity. 

"Yes, my lord," the visitor nodded. "I have travelled the kingdoms to look for this kid. After years of travelling, I finally caught news of him. He appeared at the border of Cursia when the river turned muddy three days ago and this sketch was according to one of the villagers who had seen him."

"He doesn't look like it," the muscular king mumbled, turning the item in his hand in search of more clues. "This is the human the serpent god and soul sucker both chose? Huh?"

"Yes, my lord," the visitor replied, simply. “Agnes was the one to make the prophecy at his birth and Agnes was never wrong.”

“Agnes? The last witch showed up?” Gabriel raised a brow. His voice brimmed with anger for a short moment, but he soon collected himself. 

"Well then," Gabriel sat back into his throne and grinned sinisterly. "Bring him here. I will spare that mad old lady for a little while longer."

With a wave of his hand, the servant cleared out a seat for the visitor and the guests resumed their celebration. Uriel sagged her tensed up shoulders when Gabriel spoke in a voice only the two of them could hear. 

“My queen,” he called and the queen’s breath hitched nervously. “I’m sure your father would know if the chosen child has passed his borders, wouldn’t he?”

“He would,” Uriel bowed her head to show her obedience.  “We Cursians take good care of our kingdom and king Sandalphon would never neglect your highness’ order.”

"Is that so?" Gabriel hummed back disapprovingly.

"Yes, my king," Uriel shivered and knelt down immediately beside Gabriel's left leg. 

“Good,” Gabriel’s smug smirk returned to his face. He bounced his leg once and set his eyes back onto the crowd indifferently. Uriel bit her bottom lip and laid her head onto the muscular thigh. 

"Don't ever forget your place," Gabriel chuckled darkly.

In the spacious room Aziraphale now lived in, he found himself woke with fuzzy warmth all the way to his toes. His mind and body were both miraculously rested and the excitement of starting a new life here buzzed under his skin.

He stared at the bright sky outside of the window, wondering where his life was bringing him.  _ Was he going to be kept in here forever? _ The thought worried the boy for a second. While Bee and others took good care of him, Aziraphale still felt a hollowing sadness in his guts. AN unexplainable pang of lacking something. 

The brightness outside was blinding, heating up Aziraphale's already sleep-warm skin just a tad. The boy tried to hold on to the fact that he felt safe and complete. His mind brought him back to the dream marking the beginning of his new life. In the dark swirls of his dream, there were hints of lights and Aziraphale had felt the pull of some unknown force guiding him forwards. That's the only comfort that kept him grounded. 

The door was pushed open and broke his train of thoughts. Basins, clean towels, and fresh clothes were brought in as they'd been in the past few mornings. The boy still felt a bit embarrassed by the attention on him, blushing and expressing his thanks to each person. When most of them left, Aziraphale found himself left in his room with Ada, Berta, and Bee. They had formed a squad of their own by now and it had helped keep his mind off things.

"Morning, Aziraphale," Bee greeted with a pleased smile on her face, leaning effortlessly at the door. "How are we feeling?"

"Much better, thank you, Bee," the boy smiled shyly, bowing delicately at every person in the room. "And Ada and Berta. I'm grateful for all of your help." Both of the young girls smiled and nodded in response. They seemed to be used to the boy's over-the-top manners by now and had relaxed more instead of frantically bowing in return whenever Aziraphale tried to express his thanks. 

"We think spending some time outside of the palace might be good for you, should we?" Bee suggested as Aziraphale took his clothes from Ada and Berta. The girls looked at him with pleading eyes.

"I'd love that," the boy answered, changing into a fresh set of outfits and allowing Berta to wrap him in a warm cloak. Ada let out a cheer and Berta swatted on her arms playfully. 

After they finished breakfast, the four of them walked out of the serpent god's palace and into the vibrant woods. More creatures ventured out from their spots every day than the day before.  Aziraphale beamed as soon as they stepped on the gravelled track, complimenting animals that came into his sight. Bee kept a healthy distance from the cheerfulness of the boy, letting Ada and Berta take care of the exclamation and praises for thriving creatures around them.

Birds with light-coloured feathers braved closer to three youngsters, joining the chirpy parade. Berta first held out her arm for the winged visitors to rest on, cooing softly. It was almost magical how peaceful and lively the surrounding was. Ada reached into the bag she carried to retrieve a handful of grains, handing some to Aziraphale and Berta.

The fluttering of those delicate wings enchanted the boy. He stood still, with his hand held out as steadily as he could. The pecking stung a little, but he didn't mind. Not when these beauties seemed to be feasting.

Aziraphale realised sometime later that Berta and Ada were watching him with kind smiles, waiting for him to continue their walk. He hurried to shoo off his new feathered friends gently.

"It's alright, Aziraphale," Berta laughed. "They'll follow you as long as you have a handful of grains. Come on."

The walk continued with chirping all around them. More trees, some squirrels peeking out from the rich green leaves. Some hares and rabbits watched them with beady eyes. Aziraphale had never seen so many creatures. The animals he saw in the past were villagers stocks. They would never let him befriend the horses in their barns. 

Then there was a clearing. The grass was soft and short enough to sit on comfortably, which was exactly what the group did. Berta and Ada retrieved some bread and cured meat from the bags they carried, and some fruits they carved into bite-sized pieces and handed over to the boy. They handed Aziraphale a small bottle of drinking water while passing a slightly larger one between themselves.

Tilting his round and chubby face to the bright sky, Aziraphale enjoyed the warm rays of sun with his eyes closed. It'd been a lovely morning, and it seemed to be extending into a lovely afternoon. Bee laughed softly with the chats of the younger girls.

"You like it here so far?" Aziraphale opened his eyes as he turned back to his companions' question. He hadn't had an answer to that yet. Everything was still new, but he hummed affirmatively nonetheless. It was better than what he had hoped for himself. Being here was freeing in a way that he'd never imagined. He was cared for and allowed a certain amount of autonomy. 

"Do you?" He directed the question back to the girls, who seemed surprised by the question. They opened and shut their mouths for a few times before Ada began her answer.

"Yes," she said firmly. "I couldn't ask for anything more, actually. I've never expected to live more years than my fingers could count." She had to pause and swallow, Berta squeezed her hands encouragingly. 

"You see, there were plague and war raging in the town I was born in. Parents died before children learnt how to write their names. We have lots of blank tombstones in the village. No person had the time and efforts to grieve and crave names on stones for others. Busy surviving," Ada chuckled humourlessly when Aziraphale sucked in a breath in shock. He had never lived through a plague. His village was remote and thus came out of the last plague ten years before mostly unharmed. People still mourned for their lost families who moved to the town and fell ill there, but most villagers were unaffected. 

"My experience was not far from Ada's, actually," Berta started speaking after a short silence. "I lived on the edge of the kingdom of Cursia. A small village. And life in Cursia has been difficult for quite some years. Most crops and metals were shipped to the royals. They lived lavish lives and expanded the army for their own protection. Men had to join the army to survive, make sure they have enough to eat and wear. Women didn't have the option. Children starved. Girls go to well-off households as maids even though everyone knows the risks that follow. You get caught, you get thrown out on the streets. You refuse, you get thrown out on the streets as well. But, tiptoeing every day is better than slowly starving to death." Berta shrugged, her gaze far away into nowhere.

"Hey, you're with us now, Berta," Ada pat the back of Berta's hand to draw her attention. Berta took a deep breath and laid her head on Ada’s shoulder. "Anyways, that's a life we didn't have to live anymore, thanks to the serpent god. We came here as servants. Keep his palace clean and tidy and unwanted visitors away and quiet. That's all."

"What risks follow?" Aziraphale whispered quietly, unsure if this was an appropriate question to ask. Berta flinched at the question posed and Aziraphale grimaced guiltily at that. Ada smiled forgivingly.

"It's natural that you have no idea about that actually," she sighed, her tone weighed with sadness. "Come, we can take a little detour of our own."

“It’s alright. You’re here with us now,” Ada whispered against the crown of Berta’s dark hair and laid a soft kiss there before standing up.

Ada guided Aziraphale further into the woods, once again encircled by the fresh smell of leaves and cool air. They talked about the risks girls like Ada and Berta faced in their life before here. The risk of not having control over anything in their lives. Aziraphale gasped and sniffled sympathetically as the conversation continued. He knew little about the world outside of his village. People didn't share much information with him and Tracy was determined to prepare him for meeting the serpent god. Aziraphale felt ashamed for knowing so little about the unmeasurable suffering outside of his small life, even though none of his new companions seemed to mind. 

Then Ada asked about his old life, the one he willingly left behind not to long ago and the shame he felt about his luck and ignorance returned. He came here in search of a dream. He came here not because of a lack of choice. Many people have survived much worse. He came to the serpent god by his free will. A choice he was so generously given for no reason. He felt abashed for his fortune but was honest all the same. Ada and Berta had treated him with kindness and trust. Honesty was the least Aziraphale could do.

"There's no need to worry. We all have our pasts," Ada smiled at him warmly, tugging him closer into a hug. "We are family now. I know you're special to the serpent god, and I'm here to serve you instead of cosying up with you. But, you seem like you could use a friend, some friends. It's always good to have someone to talk to."

Aziraphale nodded appreciatively and held Ada tighter in response.

"Come on. Berta must be better now," Ada pulled him along as they walked back. He felt closer to them after knowing more about each other. The young boy mused if this was what friends were like? Knowing and caring for each other even if they weren’t obliged to. 

  
  


It was right that moment when Aziraphale saw the stag. It was the most beautiful creature he had seen. Its fur sparkled as flawless and the first layer of snow, Its eyes shone like gems, and its shoulder blades shifted mesmerisingly as it paced.

Aziraphale could not look away. There was something in those eyes, soft and mellow. Something flowing like a river of woe. Something sharp and struck through Aziraphale's chest like a dagger made of solidified regret. It was calling him, the boy realised.

"Can I go back to the clearing later? I want to wander about for a little while longer," he ventured. Ada agreed hestitantly and promised to wait for him on the clearing they had been resting.

The following began. The stag strode ahead while the boy treaded behind it, maintaining several feet of distance between them. The creature finally stopped at a tree, seemingly the biggest of them all in the woods, bowing its head to chew on the grass around it. Aziraphale didn't dare to disturb. So he watched.

A white-haired woman swung down from one of the branches above them and landed gracefully beside the doe, who wasn't even distracted from its meal. The woman offered some delicate flowers to the stag who munched on it happily and licked the offered palm clean.

"Good boy," the woman praised the stag but suddenly snapped towards Aziraphale and frowned. "Why are you here?"

The question itself was a little disorienting. The woman seemed to know who Aziraphale was, and looked him up and down judgingly with unnerving focus. She tutted a few times before walking towards the boy. As she approached, Aziraphale noticed that almost everything about her was white. Her hair paler than Aziraphale's, which on it own amazed the boy, her lips almost colourless, and her skin the same shade as milk.

"Aziraphale, right?" The woman stopped in front of him, bending a little and supporting herself with hands on her own knees. "Huh, didn't expect to see you here." She murmured to herself.

"Yes, I am Aziraphale" the boy swallowed nervously, not feeling comfortable about being so close to a stranger. "And your name, if I may?"

"Blanc. You're a weird one, I'll give him that," the woman laughed standing up again straight. "Out in the woods alone?"

"No," Blanc cocked a brow. "Ada, Berta and Bee are nearby."

"Oh, Bee was babysitting you now?"

"I am not a baby," the boy tried to protest which didn't last long before he sagged down in defeat. "She probably is. Taking care of my troubles."

That seemed to hit something in the woman, for she sighed and crouched down to look into Aziraphale's eyes easier. Her eyes were paler than any he'd ever seen. Not that Aziraphale had seen into many people's eyes. He wasn't particularly worthy of looking at. And now he'd upset a person he just met. How useless could he be? Needed to be babysat, cooed at and couldn't even manage to talk to people properly.

"Hey, it's alright. It's what we're asked to do, actually, taking care of you and all that," Blanc wormed her fingers into Aziraphale's tight fists, separating the clawed fingers skillfully. "It takes some getting used to when you settle down in new places."

"I shouldn't need you to take care of me," Aziraphale huffed.

"People don't need many things that they have. People need fewer things than you might imagine. But it's nice to have things and people. Being treated badly makes us believe that we do not deserve things. We feel unworthy of any happiness. But that's not true," she reached out to allow Aziraphale to pull her up. "See? Sometimes it's the smallest thing making all the difference."

Aziraphale smiled, feeling better already.

"You are different, special in your own way. I can see that already. And it's not always easy to be different," Blanc sighed. "You must have what it takes though. He must have seen something in you. Should we go back already? Bee should be looking for you by now. She shouldn’t even leave your side, actually."

Aziraphale wanted to ask about the stag but when he raised his head, it was gone. So he sighed and let himself be led out to the clearing.

"Thanks for saving my arse! Blanc!" Bee exclaimed loudly when she saw Blanc and Aziraphale exiting the dense woods. Blanc chuckled but said nothing while Aziraphale apologised. The pale woman by his side said nothing but pat on his shoulder encouragingly.

"You'll see it again soon," Blanc whispered in his ear before she took her leave and Aziraphale beamed. "Take care, boy," she chuckled and pat his round cheeks.

  
  


"You're right," Blanc flopped down onto the seat beside the serpent god's throne, groaning and stretching out her tired limbs. The serpent god was in his naga form, resting his human torso on looped coils. Sometimes he gave into the animalistic drive. Things felt simpler to just coil himself together. Simple felt wonderful when he'd been overthinking about reaching out to Aziraphale for the past few weeks. 

“What are you talking about?” The serpent god slurred. 

It was a warm spring afternoon and he had spent it the best way he knew how––a cosy nap. He didn’t have to do much with the woods around his palace. Blanc was as capable as any of his people and he had been screaming at the creatures in the woods for the past few weeks out of stress. They wouldn’t dare to be out of line even if there’s no supervision. 

“The child you are being all weird about,” Blanc managed a sloppy shrug from her lying position. “He’s a good child.”

Despite being unreasonably in love with Aziraphale for over a few hundred years, the serpent god was still surprised to learn Blanc and Bee were both fond of Aziraphale almost immediately. It struck a protective string in his chest. The beauty that had exclusively been his to remember and love was now there for everyone to see. 

The powerful being did not quite know how to feel about this. Sure, he held some comfort in knowing that he could easily eliminate all contenders for Aziraphale’s affection if it comes to that, but he was also kept on his toes with the understanding that Aziraphale was not a soul that would yield in the face of power. 

“He is,” the deity said simply and rested himself back onto his tail in defeat. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been raining for an entire week in the city I live so it's a bit miserable here. Everything felt wet and cold. And, there was a horrifying earthquake last night (no significant damage. Don't worry!). 
> 
> Anyways, so that's life and this is my trying to chitchat and making excuse for why I made Gabriel such a horrible person.


End file.
